OTK Redux

Oh yes.

There'll be no surprise over this for anyone who has been reading us for very long, but the OTK? post created the impetus last night for a little "over the knee" session on the new sofa.

As it turns out, He says that He "loves" OTK. He told me that He's always loved it but had stopped doing it because it was so difficult for me. As we talked, we remembered that I had an "encapsulated shoulder" just about the time I turned 50. An encapsulated shoulder hurts, and the range of motion gets seriously limited. It seems that it is an ailment that women are particularly susceptible to -- especially as they move into menopause. It took months for me to decide that the shoulder had gotten bad enough for me to go see a doctor about it, and then it took months of therapy and treatment for it to finally resolve itself. What Master remembers is that the physical stresses of being over His lap were particularly complicated by that ailment, and so He simply gave it up.

So, last night, around 11:00, I got started doing my usual bedtime routine -- filling His drinks, setting up His bi-PAP, turning down the bed, tracking down all the various remote controls ... He didn't say anything at all, but He busied Himself with pulling the blinds in the living room. Odd.

He let me scurry around and do all the various odds and ends, and then just at the point where we would have tumbled into bed and started putting lotion on His hands and oil on His scars, and the like, He grabbed my hand and led me off to the living room. He'd gathered a few implements and they were laying there on the sofa. We fumbled a bit as we tried to remember which way I needed to go, but it didn't take long and I was laid out with my face buried in the leather cushions, and my butt in the air across His lap.

He started with a long, sensuous hand spanking. Heaven! I love hand spanking, and there is a fairly disparate view between He and I about how frequently that happens and to what degree. Of course, in my fantasy, I'd gotten OTK associated with hand-spanking, and so there was that moment where I was "disappointed" when He moved on to implements, including that new paddle that He just loves (more about my current "hand-spanking" obsession later).

There was that internal voice of mine, fussing and pouting about how "unfair" it is that He always gets to do what He wants and I never, ever get exactly what I want. The voice pokes at me, and taunts me with that very sardonic definition of slavery -- "slavery is when no one has to care how you feel..." That usually pisses me off, but it also puts me back into my right mind pretty quickly. Go figure.

Anyway, I ended up with a very hot, very red bottom. Interestingly, I had no welts, no bruising, and no broken skin or bleeding. That is really pretty remarkable for me these days.

He and I ended up feeling very happy with ourselves, and with each other. We got up from the sofa, went into the bedroom, and made love. It was a wonderful, warm, hot way to end the day, and we both drifted peacefully off to sleep.

The promise, today, is that He'll have me over His lap "everynight." Ask and you will receive...

swan

Ex Mother In Law

My ex-husband's mother died last week after a long battle with lung cancer.

I found out about her death when my daughter posted a bit about it on her Facebook page.

It is an odd place to be for me, because I surely do not mourn the passing of this woman. She was mean and domineering and did horrific damage to the psychological health of the eight children that she bore. They were neglected and abused, and their mother was most often too drunk to notice or care. The oldest struggled throughout their childhoods to care for those who were younger, and there isn't a one of them who isn't just flat "weird" in one way or another.

However, she is "grandma" to my two children, and I do want to respect whatever they might be feeling about her passing, and I worry how their father might react -- and how that will impact them.

I called them both last night, when I heard the news, and they seem mostly... confused. They were not close to her. We made sure that they knew their grandparents when they were young children, but their paternal grandfather died when they were still pre-teens. Then, as they grew into adolescence the difficulties that they encountered growing up seemed to create distance that their grandmother simply would not reach across. As she moved away from them, she seemed to carry with her the entirety of the extended family on that side, so aunts, uncles, and cousins "vanished" from their lives too. I think my "kids" want to acknowledge the relationship, and they seem to feel that there is some appropriate grief that they should feel in this instance, but mostly, they just seem "empty." It is sad.

I do not want to be "disrespectful" here, but I cannot join in the chorus of well wishes and hopes for her "eternal rest." I have no idea where she might be headed -- not at all sure that she is "headed" anywhere. I feel bad about feeling this way, but the fact is that if there is some "everlasting reward," I'd argue that Joan doesn't have any REWARD coming to her. Not, mind you that anyone really cares about how I feel in this case. I'm sorry she suffered at the end of her life. I'm sorry that her children and her grandchildren must now mourn this loss. I hope that their pain can heal quickly and leave only the faintest of scars. I want this to pass through their lives as gently as it can.

For myself, I think the world is well done with the woman.

swan

OTK?

We have a new sofa. Black leather and it reclines. It is really comfy.

Oddly, having it sit there in the living room day after day has me thinking about OTK. I wonder where THAT comes from? We don't do OTK. Ever. Well, OK...hardly ever. Probably, in the time we've been together, I've been over His knee maybe four or five times.

There are probably a whole host of reasons for that:

• He has arthritis in His knees. One was replaced in 2005, and the other one needs to be replaced. He's never said to me that doing OTK hurts Him, but I worry anyway.
• I have tended to feel insecure in the over the lap position. Along with my hearing loss, there is a balance/equilibrium issue, and there is something about being upended that causes me to become convinced that I am in danger of falling. Never mind the logic of it -- after all, even if I did fall from His lap (which is highly unlikely) it isn't like I'd fall 50 feet!
• Before His surgery, He was heavy enough that there really wasn't much lap to lay across. It's a pretty pedestrian reason for not doing things that way, but there it is.
• I've always just felt awkward and out of proportion in the customary "over the knee" position. Somehow, the "too tall" thing seems to get exagerated when I'm across His lap. I don't suppose that would matter if He were determined, but as things stand, it lessens the likelihood...
• I think, too, that OTK feels very much connected with and evocative of DD (domestic discipline), and that just isn't our kink. We're much more attuned to good old fashioned BDSM play. People often think that BDSM is all about "sex," but there are times when "our" kind of kink relies on more distance. Intimacy that is too close seems to interfere in some fashion.
• I also think that OTK might be too restrictive for Him. I don't know. We've never actually discussed it, but I'd imagine it could be difficult or impossible to use some implements with me over His lap.

I don't know what's going on with my mind these days. I seem more inclined to think about spanking and more likely to be thinking about it in odd ways -- at least odd ways for me. Maybe I've just gotten old -- or maybe I'm finally through the hormonal morass of the last few years. Whatever. all I know for sure is that the comfy black sofa just sits there looking at me, and in my mind at least, the idea of OTK speaks of intimacy and closeness and long, sensual, hand spankings. I'm probably just fanasizing my way to disappointment, but knowing that doesn't seem to have any impact at all on my wayward, kinky brain.

swan

Spanking Dreams

As T reported, Master and I have colds ... nasty summer colds with some pretty intense chest congestion and coughing and general crumminess. He's a few days ahead of me with this, and getting closer to being well I think.

Last night was just miserable. I suspect, although I never really checked, that I was running a fever. I was achy and miserable with that kind of hyper-sensitivity that makes me think that I can feel air molecules hitting my skin. The mattress seemed too hard, and the sheets seemed too rough, and the air that comes from His bi-PAP seemed like a stream of marbles bouncing off my skull. When I did sleep, I'd dream that sort of weird and wildish dream that is driven by a fevered brain, and of course, for me, that means the spanko-masochist runs wild and free.

In my dream, I was walking down a hallway in some public building. I'm not sure what exactly was going on in the place. In my memory, it seems like it might have been a school or a hospital or a civic building like a courthouse or something similar. I was wearing a pair of nice looking black trousers as I went about whatever business I had in the place. Suddenly, I realized that I had a giant, Daisy Duke hole in the seat of my pants, and my butt was hanging out for all the world to see.

I froze in place, backed up to the wall, and stood there in a panic, trying to figure out how to get out of the place. Maybe I could just wrap a towel around my waist and walk out, but where does a person find a towel in a public building ... ? So, I did the logical thing and started yelling at the top of my lungs for Master. Of course!

So, my mind is trying to get me spanked even as my poor sick little body just won't do it. Figures! Sheesh! Maybe tomorrow...

swan

They're Sick

Both Tom and swan are sick.

Tom got a summer cold last week and he has passed it to swan. She is sleeping alot and they are both living on cold capsules and cough syrup.

I am thinking of putting a HUGE red "Q" on their door so people will know they are Quarantined.

Just wanted you all to know that we are all alive....just coughing up "frog parts" as swan is prone to saying.

I am not sick. I am carrying a cross, garlic, and face mask....

T

"When I Grow Up, I Want To Be Just Like..."

I hope I can be forgiven for continuing to talk about the struggles of my friend, morningstar. It is just that her latest comment on my Rules post caused a flood of responses to come up in my mind, and I really feel that I need to take some time to talk my way through it all --

She wrote:

When i look at the relationship you have with Raheretic .... you always seem to know what is expected... or .. better put.. you always DO what is expected ..... and i admire that.... and tend to say "when i grow up i want to be just like her"...... because you see i DO tend to make decisions on my own about these expectations.. which is where most of our problems have stemmed from.. my doing what i think is right at the time... often times putting my own interests etc before Sir's... At first.. they were smallish things... like a grain of sand in your shoe.. annoying but not enough to stop and fix the problem.... it was when there was a whole mess of sand in His shoe that He stopped and decided to fix the problem....... ugh... perhaps i should spend some time trying to put down in words on my own blog what has been going on.... but ya see... i find it embarrassing and humiliating... and i feel as though i have been lying for months and months.... and it is very difficult to stand up tall and say "mea culpa"

My first and strongest reaction to all of this, but especially the "you always DO what is expected" piece, was an immediate denial and disclaimer. In my head, there was an insistent voice that kept repeating the question, "Doesn't she know; doesn't EVERYONE know, how often and how colossally I screw up?" I imagine that I am not the only person who is gifted with that particular voice. I could be wrong, but I think that there are many of us who just KNOW that we are not nearly as good at this as people think we are. I am pretty sure that there is a (largely unacknowledged and unexamined) part of my psyche that believes that I have fooled everyone; am nowhere near as good or wise or submissive or strong or whatever, as everyone thinks I am; and that it is all balanced precariously just waiting to tumble into a heap when somebody catches on and blows the whistle on me.

There is a benefit, I suppose, to being possessed of an appropriately critical and honest internal monitor that reminds us that we are far from perfect; that we have plenty of room for growth and improvement. Humility is a good thing -- especially in a person who follows the path of slavery or submission. That "voice" can assist us in our continued work to learn to live and serve with joy and integrity, with grace and dignity.

Unfortunately, many of us, myself included, have internal monitors that are prone to take on the voice of those from our past that hurt and damaged us. Where we suffer from poor self-image, and a hobbled self-esteem, the hyper-critical internal monitor can tell us that we have failed; that we are stupid; that we are ugly and lazy. The voice that should guide and strengthen us becomes predatory and ravenous and destructive.

I have been lucky. Master has consistently refused to allow me to succumb to self-talk that denigrates the worth of His property. Some of the most difficult and impactful discipline that I have ever been subjected to has come as a direct response to instances when I have fallen into that abyss. Over time, I believe that the volume has been turned down on those voices from my past. These days, I am much more tuned into His evaluation of my worth, and much less inclined to react and respond based on hurts and disappointments from the past.

All of that allows me to focus more consistently and clearly on living up to His expectations. There is less "noise" to cope with. Of course, the drawback, from my perspective, is that I don't have that as a line of escape anymore. Because, the truth is that, when I was still moored in the muck of self-doubt and self-blame, I could retreat to that and use it as a shield -- "See, You can't be mad at me for my failings, Sir... I am too broken and stupid and worthless for you to be able to expect anything more." Yup. Sometimes being powerless is a powerful thing.

Being hurt and being wounded and being broken keeps us focused on ourselves. If I intend to serve Him, I need to focus on Him. I need to listen to Him. I need to attend to Him. I need to continually check to see if my thinking and my acting in the world are aligned with His. That is the key to living up to His expectations. I don't have a whole lot of rules or guidelines, and I do have a whole lot of personal leeway as to how I conduct myself in the world. I leave each morning and go off to work, and what I do in that context is entirely up to me. Some might look at all that "freedom," and declare that I am, in fact, not a "true" slave. If that is your view, I understand. For me however, over time, I've acquired an internal touchpoint that allows me to continually check my actions and choices against my perceptions of what Master would want, or what Master would do. I am almost never "on my own." He is at the center of everything that happens in my world. That becomes the compass that guides me through my days.

Writing here has helped me with all of that. Putting my worries and my wonderings and my confusions here, along with my joys and my successes helps me keep it all sorted out. Having the long term record of my thinking and my growth helps too. Sometimes, when things get rocky, I can come to feel that it is a waste of time, that everything I've ever written is just so much bullshit -- a giant pile of lies. Too, being exposed here is sometimes very difficult... readers in this place have seen me soar, but also crash in flames. It doesn't matter. This was His idea in the beginning. It remains His directive that I write here. There are no hard and fast requirements as to how often I should write, and He doesn't usually direct the subject of my discussions. However, on those occasions when I get frustrated with the whole business and declare that I hate this blog and want to just delete the whole thing, He makes it clear to whom the place really belongs...

Too often, the assumption is that a slave has no independent thoughts, no reactions or responses to things that happen. If that does happen for some people, I have not achieved the level of accomplishment that allows me to simply say, "Yes, Sir," without any reaction. There are times when Master's take on things seems just ridiculous to me, or mean, or flat stupid. That's when, if you could peer into my shower, you would find me in there with the water running full force, muttering and sputtering and shaking my fist at the unfairness of it all. Thank goodness for indoor plumbing and running water. That shower saves my ass -- literally.

So, no. Far, far from perfect. Better than I was seven years ago, I hope. Better, day to day, as I learn and grow and mature. It is embarrassing to admit to the failings, to have the flaws and broken places be seen. But the broken places are mine too, and so they are His. I am not a "finished" piece of work. Our relationship is not done -- we are still growing; still pursuing the dream we share. I hope there are things that I share that help others as they walk their own paths. If that can happen, and most believe that I've done that with some integrity, then it will be good enough for me, and hopefully, good enough for Master.

swan

Rules

My friend, morningstar, has been writing, for a couple of weeks now, about a "break" in her power-based dynamic with her Sir. I honestly don't know a lot about what is really happening inside their relationship. She's been relatively quiet about the details, and his own post about the current problems is cryptic to say the least.


Her latest post talks about how hurt she is feeling, and there is a good deal of self-doubt and self-recrimination. Our family continues to simply wait and listen and care; wishing there were more that could be done. One part of what she wrote however, mentions me (and a few others) specifically:

It would seem i have forgotten the rules........ most of the rules....... and i shouldn't have ... Sir shouldn't have to reinforce them should He? i should remember them.. and follow them and be proud i have rules............. be a graceful gracious subbie.. i keep telling myself swan wouldn't forget the rules.. leesa wouldn't.. kaya wouldn't........ drakor wouldn't......BUT i have !




I've read that bit over and over and over. It just feels "wrong" to me -- at least in the sense that it is about me. I can't "get to" the biggest pieces of whatever is going on between morningstar and her Sir, but I can speak to the comparison between her own submissive capacity for compliance and obedience and mine.

I don't write much about rules. I don't discuss rules within the context of our power-based relationship. It feels to me like formally stated and structured rules are just not something that is central to our dynamic. I know that it is fairly common, in the lifestyle, to create very formal, and carefully negotiated agreements about limits and rules and consequences for non-compliance. Intellectually, all of that makes sense to me -- I understand how I think it would work, but I have no experience of how a relationship that is structured in that fashion actually works. So, what I have to say about "rules" should be taken with a large grain of salt.

When I checked the definition of the word "rule," I found that a rule is defined as an authoritative, prescribed direction for conduct. One who makes rules moves to exercise control, dominion, or direction over; to dominate by powerful influence; or to exercise supreme authority.

It seems clear to me, when I read that set of definitions, and when I then think about the nature of a dynamic that relies on a rule-based structure, that it must be a two-person endeavor. There is, of course, the person for whom the rules are promulgated; the one who is expected to obey, but there is also, by definition, someone who makes the rules, exerts the control, exercises the authority. When rules form the foundation, there must be a balance achieved between the one who follows those rules and the one who administers the rules. If either partner in the transaction fails to focus, fails to attend, then it seems to me that the structure cannot stand.

I always say that I live with, and attempt to live up to, expectations, rather than rules. I don't have rules about what I wear, or where I sit, or how I speak, or where I can go, or... I don't know why, but those are simply things that do not seem to be important to Master, and so He doesn't engage in making rules about them. Remember that administering rules requires attention and focus. When it comes to expectations, however, there are definitely a host of those. He expects to live comfortably, and He expects that T and I will do what it takes to make that a reality. In practice, that means that there are clean clothes when and where He expects to find them, there is food prepared for Him when and how He wants it, His needs for medictions and health-related care is taken care of without Him having to invest energy in any of it. He expects to be spoken to in a particular fashion, and He expects to be treated with specific and unfailing respect and affection. Surely, too, He expects to be able to play sadomasochistically when He wants to, and He expects that His sexual pleasure will be taken care of.

Most of that is unspoken between us. I have learned, over time, what He wants and needs, and tending to all of that has become a part of my regular routine. T is the same way, and she and I are really good partners. I'd imagine that a casual observer would look at the things I do and see very little distinction between my behavior in this relationship and that of most good wives. If that is the case, then that's just fine. I'm not here to argue the point.

So, morningstar, my dear friend, I want you to quit putting me up on the pedestal when it comes to remembering and following rules. That bit of self-criticism can be crossed of your list. I have no real idea how I would do with a whole list of detailed rules. Perhaps I'd accommodate that "gracefully," but there is no way to be sure. One other thing that I think you may want to re-think, my friend, with regard to this notion of rules is this -- you seem convinced that your Sir shouldn't have to invest any energy in reinforcing rules. I disagree. Rules need to be reinforced and upheld and attended to by the one who takes on the authority position. That IS the responsibility of your Sir and any other Dominant or Master who believes in the importance of rules within the power dynamic. It is as simple as this: rules which you are not willing to enforce are not really rules, and you have no reason to expect anyone to follow them.

swan

Arguing Religion -- Are You Kidding Me?

There's been a bit of a spitting and hissing match going on in our comments from the last post.

It really got started because Master (and I) both referred to the relative dearth of right-wing, fundamentalist, Christian-crazies at the Pride parade on Saturday. Amber chimed in with her own "hear, hear," and that set off Bridget, who took exception to the lumping of all Christians into the same intolerant, "wingnut" pile. She wrote:

"...I don't think being religious has anything to do with being intolerant...there are more religious intolerant people than not, but I've met ... intolerant gay and kinky people ...as an Orthodox Christian ...I fully support gay rights...I ... think being open minded means ... being open to all opinions...I ... deplore a lot of the behavior ... from others who claim my religion...I'm just sick of high and mighty people ...I really don't have anything to say about the need for religion. Everybody has an ideology and value system that they base their actions onReligion is one way to get there."

Now, we don't moderate comments here at The Heron Clan. People have, upon occasion, taken exception to things that we say, and we have a small but dedicated cadre of critics that just love to take pot shots at us. However, in all the time we've written here, I don't remember anyone ever using OUR comments to go after another reader. That feels a little like having someone who is a guest in my home decide to pick a fight with another guest, and that is unacceptable. I'm pretty sure that Amber is perfectly capable of holding her own in this little dust up, but this is my place, and I will have my say.

So, here it is, in case anyone (including Bridget) is confused -- and I can't imagine why anyone would be. We are sensible and intelligent people. We are not oblivious to the fact that we live in a culture that is awash in the trappings of the mythology that has been promulgated by the christian church through the centuries -- we just don't subscribe to the common delusion. We don't care what you choose to believe, and we apprecite our friends of various religious stripes who offer their own ideas and wisdom knowing full well that we do not believe as they do. There are a number of our regular readers who are people of honest religious faith who are able to accommodate that difference between us without getting into some sort of stomping snit fit when they encounter the "heathen and heretic" aspect of this place. Those friendships are a valued part of our lives.

I've spent more than just a little time listening to Bridget go on and on and on about her own Christian Orthodox faith, and I've never once made a single move to counter any of the somewhat fantastical parts of her belief system. It matters not at all to me what she or anyone else chooses to believe. But, there is no legitimacy in my view, to the claim of personal christianity that then denies some shared responsibility for the bad, mean, intolerant, crazy, hatefulness of the whole. I understand the discomfort that can arise from the association -- after all, I work for a Catholic school, but being uncomfortable does not grant permission for being stupid about the reality. Christianity has been and continues to be (at least as it is practiced in the extreme mode) a force for wickedness and hatred in the world. Religious fantasy does seem to do that to people -- Christians don't have a corner on the market in that regard.

No one should assume that this is the place, to come and bang the drum for the poor, down trodden, mistreated and misunderstood Christians. If you, Bridget (or anyone else for that matter) are into that sort of thing, please use your own space -- your own forum. We don't want to deal with it, and I won't tolerate the use of my space for brow beating others on the subject.

swan

Gay Pride Parade

We rode in the Columbus Gay Pride parade today. This was our second year to take part in this event, and it was an absolutely beautiful day for it.

Tonight, we are sunburned and tired, but once again, amazed and uplifted by having spent time immersed in the open and joyful atmosphere that surrounds "Pride." It is just enlivening to get to see people of all ages and shapes and colors out in public celebrating the love they share and the fact of who they are.

It did seem that there were fewer "nasty" Christian crazies out with bullhorns spewing hatred as we traveled the route. I'm not sure what might have suppressed that particular behavior, but I am glad to see it, whatever the cause.

We had a great time. We ended up feeling sapped by the heat, and that stopped us from staying to participate in the festival, but maybe some year we'll hang out, after the parade, to enjoy the atmosphere of the post parade festivities.

swan

Things That Freak Me Out

I approach living inside of our M/s dynamic with a pretty simple philosophy -- I try to do what He would want me to do. I work to meet up to expectations, and I follow the rules, and I really intend to make His life easier and less challenting. It isn't complicated, and I am usually pretty successful with all of that. However, there are times when I get caught in some set of circumstances that, as a slave, I just don't see coming. When that happens, I get surprised and freaked out and a little bit scared.

Yesterday, I mashed into one of those places.

He called me from work and asked me to take a look at a document that had some ideas for a piece of a project we've been working on together. He was in a bit of a hurry for me to check this out and give Him some feedback. I was actually out at the store when He called, but I hurried and finished my shopping and headed home to check for His email. I found it, and the attached document -- downloaded it to my computer and went to look at it. It was complete gibberish -- that sort of computer junk that you get when you can't actually READ the file you've just downloaded. I tried to call Him and He didn't answer His phone.

I sat there stymied, trying to figure out what to do. Then I remembered that He'd told me that the newer verison of Microsoft Office (the one that comes on the new Vista equipped machines) puts out documents in a format that can't be read by older versions of the software (unless the person specifies otherwise -- how annoying is that?). Thinking quickly, I reasoned that since His new computer has the appropriate operating system, maybe I could download the document there and look at it on His computer. So, I turned on His machine and repeated the process, and voila', there it was. I sat there looking over the material and preparing to give Him my response when someone popped up in an IM box on His screen saying, "Hi. How's it going?"

I froze. I wasn't sure what I should do. I didn't have any idea who this person was, and it was clear that whoever it was expected to find Master on the other end of the exchange. Of course they did. I didn't want them to think that He was being rude and just ignoring them. But I wasn't the person they were wanting to talk to either. What should I do?

Finally, I typed, "He isn't here."

"OK," came back across the screen, and I breathed a little easier. Then, "tell Him Pete was here."

"I will," I typed back.

That's when things escalated. Pete asked who I was, and I told Him that I was "swan." He told me that he was arranging for Master to discipline him when they could agree on a time. He said he'd like to talk with me if I had time.

I gulped. Hard. I didn't even know about this guy. If I was supposed to know about him, surely Master would have told me. I was pretty sure that getting engaged with this person wasn't "right" somehow. I didn't want to be impolite or unkind -- I was mindful that Master has told me that it is my responsibility to be hospitable on His behalf. I was caught. Finally, I told Pete that I'd be happy to talk to him, but I felt like I needed to ask Master first. If it turned out that it was "ok," then we'd figure out how to set up a chance to talk.

I signed off, and sat there shaking. Really. I knew that I'd acted with absolutely honest intent, and I knew that I wasn't intending to trespass into an area that Master meant to keep private. I wanted to talk to Master. I wanted to explain it. I wanted to make sure that He didn't think that I was prying or something of the sort. I was terribly upset.

He did, eventually, call. He heard my shakiness right away and asked me what was the matter. The whole story just poured out of me -- all of it, including my sense of having stumbled into something "bad" that I never even knew about. He just laughed. Told me that this guy has been around for a couple of years -- is the Master version of the HNG who keeps on pestering even though there is no interest on this end at all. "Calm down," He told me, "it is nothing at all, and you are just fine."

And, so... I settled in and started to breathe normally again and went back to my life, secure in the knowledge that I'd figured out how to do the right thing even under surprising circumstances.

swan

Yup -- I'm Home

Last night, after I got home; after Master and T got home; it was as if He just couldn't really believe it. He kept looking at me as if He was convinced that I might evaporate right before His eyes. It was cute.

Today, He seems to have recovered, although He is being very lovey -- He keeps petting me as if I am a long-lost teddy bear.

He had an early meeting this morning, and so it was up early for us. Our usual summer pattern, on days when He has to be in early, is that I fix His breakfast and help Him dress and pack. I load Him into His car and wave Him off from the driveway. Once He's on His way, I get showered and get started on whatever projects are on tap for my day. Today, I was intent on wading through the latest set of clothes that no longer fit, and once again, restoring His closet to some useable shape. I also needed to make a run to the grocery as there were things that we needed that had run low while I was gone.

I was really just getting well started in the closet when my phone rang. It was Master and He was not feeling well after His lunch. This happens sometimes now -- since the surgery, eating can sometimes make both He and T feel ill. He'd toughed it out for 45 minutes or so, but told me that He was really having trouble and was coming home. I felt bad that He was feeling bad, but was more than glad to have Him home for the afternoon.

When He got here, we went to lie down -- and both fell sound asleep. We napped for probably three or maybe even four hours. When He woke up, He was feeling MUCH better.

I'd purchased some shorts while I was out to the store earlier. Nothing fancy -- just some simple exercise-style shorts that I can wear while I am schlepping around the house this summer. However, the usual procedure around here is that new clothes need to be "broken in." "Broken in," for the un-initiated, is code for paddling me while I am dressed in whatever it is. So, having napped, He was bent on breaking in the new shorts.

Over the pillow I went, and out came that new paddle that I got for Him for our anniversary. He paddled and paddled and paddled. I don't have any idea how many paddle strokes there were -- a LOT! Then, He had me pull off the shorts and repeated it all over on my bare ass.

The whole business left Him all excited -- yes, He gets turned on by the simple act of hurting me. Wicked sadist! Anyway, the paddling was entirely satisfactory it seems, and the sex afterwards was darn good too!

swan

Am I Boring Everyone to Death Yet?

At the risk of becoming a complete and utter bore -- I am home tonight, and here is a picture of me "being grandma."

swan

Manipulation in Relationship

One of the things that is a rock solid reality in my world is that Master is utterly and absolutely immune to manipulation. He is so completely and solidly Dominant, that He easily and summarily ends any move on my part to try to control our dynamic or influence His choices. It's not that I haven't tried it on occasion -- I do have some pretty extreme control issues and that behavior does sometimes rear its ugly head. The thing is that He catches it very quickly and stomps it out before I get very far. As annoying as I find that when it happens, I think it works well in terms of keeping our relationship on track...

Because allowing another person to manipulate you requires that you have to collude with their desire to control your feelings, motives, and thoughts through deceptive, exploitative, and unfair means. Manipulation is all about advancing your own goals at the expense of the person being manipulated. With time, it stands to reason that this kind of relationship is going to become troubled. I feel lucky, when I am in my right mind, to belong to a Man who won't succumb to my efforts to undermine His power and ability to choose. He' very effective and efficient in finding ways to stand up to manipulation and bring "balance" back into our relationship.

Manipulation uses covert agendas to try to coerce another person into giving in. Usually, I get into manipulative behavior when something has triggered my fears and insecurities (like the potential for Him to become engaged with other partners). Because, under those circumstances, I am in a place that is emotionally fragile and unhealthy, the choices I make in terms of my life within our relationship aren't generally good ones. I can get very scared and then I act like a crazy person. The good news, for me, is that manipulation really can't occur in a vacuum. It takes two people to make manipulation possible in a relationship, and without a partner willing to be vulnerable, there is simply nowhere for it to go here.

Commonly, those who are susceptible to manipulation exhibit some shared characteristics:

• They have a sense of self-worth that is tied up in doing things for other people -- often at the expense of their own well-being.
• They need to have the approval and acceptatnce of other people.
• They are afraid of expressing negative emotions, and avoid showing anger or engaging in conflicts.
• They are reluctant to say, "no," and they allow others to challenge their limits.
• They lack a clear sense of their own values, and are sure of their own judgement.

So, on all counts, with Master, there is absolutely zero availability for manipulative tactics like becoming angry, lying, intimidating, shouting, name-calling, pouting, or sulking. He is sure and secure and solid, and while He's happy if I am happy, He doesn't need to have that be the reality for His own sense of well-being. He is completely immune to all of that manipulative nonsense, and if I start to wind up to play those games with Him, it usually doesn't take long before He'll call me on it -- in no uncertain terms. That is a very good thing for both of us. Because, although I may attempt, for whatever reason, to sometimes gain the upper hand with Him, I really need to know that He is in control -- in control of Himself, and in control of me.

Over the years, I've had the opportunity to observe a good number of people in relationships, both kinky and more mainstream, and I've seen plenty of partners fall victim to the damage that can be done when one partner can "push the other one around." It is one of the most insidious kinds of "power exchange." I've watched friends and acquaintances ride the manipulation roller coaster, and it is emotionally exhausting -- one day up and the next day despairing. Sometimes, I think that is the payback for people engaged in this kind of relating: the sheer adrenaline rush of careening between those high highs and low lows. It can bring a sort of never-ending high drama to life, and for some, that seems to be precisely what is wanted.

For me, tonight, far from home, it seems very clear that I am happiest when there is minimal drama; when life is steady; when I know where my boundaries are. Manipulation is a lot of work for only negative outcomes. I am truly grateful to have come into the orbit of One who sees me when I start to wander into that wilderness, and drags me back into a wiser and calmer place.

swan

Heart Lessons

I spent the day yesterday with Xander cuddled in close to me. He's a wonderfully calm, snuggly little guy, and it is peaceful holding him in my arms. He is still very new, and very sleepy much of the time, and while it is tempting to poke at him so he'll wake up and give me that curious new baby once over, I am inclined to let him sleep against my chest.

My son and his wife are just in love with their "little man," and who can blame them? I have surely lost my heart. My son, Rick, adores him -- is completely amazed by him; gets the most endearing, gentle, happy look on his face as he stares into this baby's eyes. What a warm and wonderful father he is going to be. And his care and concern for his wife, Anne is obvious. She knows it, too, and she clearly adores him for it. I love her, and I am so proud of the man he has become!

My brother, Hank, who lives in Dallas, suggested, on Facebook, that I'd be very quick to move back to Denver now. He, himself, acknowledged that he was being "evil" in suggesting it, but the comment gives me pause. I tested that out inside of myself for just a minute, because until he said it, I hadn't considered it. What I find is that, even with this adorable baby in the picture, my life is not here in Denver. My life and my world and my place are exactly where they were before I ever stepped on the plane on Friday. I will find ways to be in Xander's life, and perhaps there will be more frequent travel to Denver in the future, but I know this -- I cannot wait to get home to Master and to T.

I also got the chance to spend time with my daughter, Sarah yesterday, and that was wonderful as well. She has completed her time with the state correctional system, and she seems clear and strong and sane and sober, and it is so interesting to see her grown into a fully aware and powerful woman. She is definitely still inherently "wild," and disinclined to behave in socially acceptable ways unless she chooses to do so. The big difference is that she does sometimes CHOOSE, and that is a huge shift in her. She told me that it is very strange, but she sometimes opens her mouth and my voice comes out. That made me laugh. I can imagine the consternation that must cause her.

It all reminds me of the time, so long ago, when those kids of mine were infants and children and adolescents. I was so young when I was being their mom; so unsure in so many ways; and working with very little in terms of resources. I gave them my whole heart, and I was dedicated to making life as good for them as I could. From the very beginning, and through every single thing that happened along the way, my "mission" was to raise good adults -- people who would live in the world with awareness and heart and strength of character. I've often wondered how well I did. I've entertained the niggling doubt that it would have been better if they had had parents who were older or wiser, who had more money, who were more stable and less "crazy." I've wondered if I made the right choice back when I allowed those other grandchildren to be given up for adoption rather than take them to raise them myself. So many choices made; so many unknowns; so many paths taken without the option of turning back...

And here they all are. And here I am. It seems it all turned out beautifully. There, I think, is the lesson for this grandmother: Live with your whole heart, and love completely in the moment that you have. The future will carry us all into what will be. We cannot see that from here. All we can do is believe in what is good and invest our lives in it.

swan

swan Departs (Finally) for Denver

Our swan is finally in the air over North America on her way to see her beautiful new grandson. "Xander."

I say "finally" because she was supposed to fly off at 7:00 or so last evening but her flight was cancelled due to tornadoes in the Midwest.

Today she left her origination airport at about 5:30 PM. Her new alternative route is somewhat circuitous with a flight change in Atlanta prior to heading west to Denver, but finally tonight about 11:00 PM Denver time(which will be about 1:00 AM our time...........the time swan is acclimated to) she will touch down there, at long last.

We both miss her already but are thrilled that she will early tomorrow be bouncing her "Xander" on her knee and getting to meet him up close and personal. She has been longing for this meeting so terribly. It is little sacrifice for us to lose her for a few days so she can get to meet this wonderful little guy who is so dear to her, not to mention a reunion with her own kids, and daughter and law which too will be wonderful for her.

So if we don't see that much of her for a few days, don't be surprised. On the other hand she has her laptop with her, so you never know:)

All the best everyone,

Tom

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined.

Do You Ever Wonder...?

Indulge me for just a few minutes and take a look at the list of Desires/ Pleasures that follows:

___being needed
___being helpful
___being loved
___being appreciated
___pleasing others
___acceptance
___approval
___serving others
___giving to others
___being perfect
___being a good citizen
___being peaceful
___being secure
___deference to others
___being considerate
___accepting others
___being non-judgmental
___being tolerant
___philanthropy
___charity
___causes
___serving the family
___submissiveness
___asceticism
___hard work
___drudgery
___routine
___competence
___loyalty
___respect for authority

There are 30 items in that list. How many did you recognize in yourself? Me? I can check off 20 of those "desires" or "pleasures" without even having to think about it much. That list feels like it is about how I am, and it is also descriptive of what I've worked to become. I see many of those qualities as "positive" and somehow "right."

The list however, comes from this website: Masochistic Personality Disorder. Actually, I understand that the DSM-IV has re-named this personality type, and now refers to it as Self-Defeating Personality Disorder. Wow!

The DSM-IV states:
302.83 Sexual Masochism
In order for BDSM to be a disorder BOTH A and B must be present:

A. Over a period of at least 6 months, recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors involving the act (real, not simulated) of being humiliated, beaten, bound or otherwise made to suffer.

B. The fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.

Now, by those criteria, my orientation to sexual masochism does not attain to the level of a "disorder." I surely have to own up to A, but not B. I'm a pretty functional human being for the most part. Still, here lately, I've wondered about all of this from a "mental health" point of view.

Time spent out in "the community" last weekend didn't help any. I sat at the play party last Saturday evening, and looked at a significant number of people there who, in my view, seem pretty far from "functional" on a variety of levels. It used to be that I'd go to play parties and meet a fair number of people (maybe even a majority) who seemed like "regular" folks who just happened to like to get together and beat the tar out of one another. They had real jobs, and real families and all the usual concerns that anyone else had, and they could sit and carry on an intelligent and interesting conversation apart from their obvious kinks. Not so much in this crowd that we were with last weekend... There, we were uncomfortable and uneasy and so clearly did not "fit in." Still we WERE there. What is it that causes us (and I do think we are intelligent, and successful, and responsible, and pretty normal) to choose to associate with a veritable host of weirdos and misfits? Does it point to a "lack of functioning?"

Too, I look around the circle of people who read here (not that we ever actually hear from most who only lurk), some of whom have been following for nearly five years, and I see not a single one who chooses to live their life in the way that I do -- or that we do. It isn't that we've been trying to convert or persuade anyone to follow our path; far from it, but wouldn't you think that in five years, and after a gazillion hits (337,722) to our combined sites, someone would show up that would look sort of similar? Unless of course we really are just too weird, deviant, perverse to imagine... Alternative is one thing, but come on!

It took me a long time to come to terms with the awareness of my masochism. I really struggled with it, but eventually, I came to own the label and embrace the reality of that part of myself. I don't feel ashamed or unhappy about it these days. But here lately I'm wondering -- am I fooling myself? Am I following a path that leads to some sort of catastrophic ending? Should I be working to work my way out of this place that I've gotten into? There is not one bit of that set of questions that evokes an affirmative response in me. I really do think that I am where I should be, where I am most authentic and most healthy. I don't feel delusional; at least I don't think I do. What does "delusional" feel like?

I'm going to believe that my wondering along this line is just an artifact of the way my quirky mind works. But I do wonder if anyone besides me ever wonders?

swan

Leaving on a Jet Plane

In just about 64 hours, I'll load my things in the car and head for the airport. I'm flying to Denver on Thursday afternoon for a five day visit with my kids and new grandson.

I am thrilled and excited. Simultaneously I am frightened and sad. I can't wait to get to that baby, and I am so looking forward to spending some real time with my son and daughter and daughter-in-law. But, doing all of that means being away from home and being away from Master and T. They can't go with me. They used up all their "time off" after the surgery. So, I'll make this trip by myself.

He's given me positive support for making this trip. He's been clear that He really wants me to go see my grandchild. There is something about being the age we all are -- the advent of a grandchild is an event that we all understand. So, there isn't any dissonance that is being generated by His reactions or responses to my traveling.

But that dissonance still echoes in my mind and my heart. Being away for this long feels really extreme, and I feel very wobbly about being on my own all that time. He'll be here with T, and she'll take good care of Him, but I still fuss... about His lunches, and the C-pap, and His pills and calcium, and His breakfast, and...

Ohhhhhh... It is just one of those places where the reality of the choices that brought me here comes back to be faced once again. I am a very long way from the place I once called home. The children I bore are adults with their own lives, and those lives are being lived in the place that I left behind. This grandchild will grow up, mostly, out of my sight and out of my reach. This trip will satisfy the immediate longing to touch him and look into his baby eyes and breathe in his baby scent, but I have no illusions that he'll grow up knowing who I am. The distance is too great. I'll make this trip, looking forward and looking back at the same time, and then I'll come home to Master and to T, and try and pick my life back up again. Surely 5 days isn't too long... I hope.

swan

Unsettled

Seven years ago, with my entire life packed into boxes and just a bit behind me in the moving van, I pulled into Cincinnati and began to live the life that, until that time, we'd all just imagined. Those beginning days and months were breathless and joyful and busy and full of the adventure of learning about one another in the way that can only be accomplished when you live together. So many patterns were laid down in those early days -- the ways that we would eventually come to be together from day to day. We learned about eating together and sleeping together and playing together and getting household chores done together. We told stories about our lives and our childhoods and our youth.

I've spent the last few days, looking back, awestruck at the distance we've come -- at how very much life we've lived together in this time. We embark on the next seven years in bodies that are older, and with a set of dreams and hopes that are different, in some significant ways, than they were seven years ago.

There is a part of me that feels a little edgy about this "anniversary" milestone. Somehow, to me, it feels more significant than the others have. Perhaps that is driven by all the medical struggles of the last few months... Somehow, the simple fact of being here, now, altogether seems like an enormous accomplishment; something to be celebrated and cherished.

We spent last night at a play party. I think I imagined that we'd perhaps share our celebration with members of the community and commemorate the milestone in their company, but it didn't turn out that way. They didn't have anyway to know, and the truth is that we are very occasional visitors in the circle that "they" all share. Whatever the reasons for that (age, distance, point of view, etc.), there was no reason at all for them to celebrate an "anniversary" with a group of folks that they don't even know.

And so, our recognition of the moment was between us; enacted in the dungeon -- in a session that revolved in some arcane fashion around sets of seven -- He whispered something about it to me as we were getting started last night. I'm not sure exactly how that worked, I was entirely focused on trying to make sure that my part in the proceedings was what was expected.

I'm a little disappointed. I've always experienced BDSM dungeons as places of enormous energy -- places where our play was enhanced and augmented by the FACT of being with others who could see it and understand it and lend it their positive goodwill. The observer -- the witnesses -- were important elements in the entire venture. They brought it life and electricity and gave it a sense of affirmation. If that was going on in the dungeon last night, I couldn't feel it. Perhaps I'm too old; or perhaps it is that we've become passe'; or maybe it really is because we don't know any of these people well; or perhaps the community ethic is more self-oriented and there is just less interest in being with each other in the way that I remember.

It makes me sad. I want something more than that from our forays into the public scene. I might be wanting what cannot be had, but I wonder... I wonder if there are other venues and other events where we might go a few times in a year and play in dungeon environments that are exciting and affirming and energizing and capable of elevating the level of our personal interaction to some other plane of awareness and connection?

We're thinking about reaching out further from home, looking to some bigger events. Maybe Floating World in August. Maybe that will be the answer to this unsettled feeling that I am experiencing.

swan

Vivian's Original Story

An expert is a person who avoids small error as he sweeps on to the grand fallacy.

~Benjamin Stolberg~

More on the question/issue of Vivian at "The Disciplined Feminist," and her new book on spanking and Domestic Discipline:

First, if you are interestid in this subject, I'd recommend that you visit Sara's blog. She and I seem to share similar concerns in this instance, and she addresses it from the perspective of someone who IS living inside of a working and thriving Domestic Discipline relationship.

I wanted to share some further information on this subject with those who are interested.

A couple of days ago, I attempted to bring up the question of qualification/credibility in the comments of a blog called, A Kind Dom. This is a companion site to the Uncle Agony blog, and was one of the first places to actively "advertise" Vivian's book on spanking. I wrote (in part):

"...Reconciling strength and pride with submission/masochism or respect with dominance/sadism is at the very core of what we do when we create our intentionally unequal and deliberately imbalanced power exchanges. It is that which is difficult for someone who has never done it or felt it to understand, especially when they try to match it up to commonly accepted social norms. That is precisely why I wonder why it is that you are so enamored of this book of Vivian's. As far as I can tell from everything she's written at her blog, she has never actually managed to create the dynamic of which she speaks. She is precisely that mostly vanilla "expert" trying to make intellectual sense of what it is that she sees of this dynamic, but writing without any (or much) actual personal knowledge."



To which, Vivian responded as follows:

"...I wanted to take a moment to respond to swan's comment, if I may do so. Since The Disciplined Feminist is framed in the context of my current (and particularly challenging) relationship, I tend to focus on that relationship exclusively as a "hothouse" for discussing some of the more abstract and thorny issues surrounding DD(plus, it makes for good drama...!). As a result, it seems that swan has made the erroneous assumption that my experience with DD and spanking is limited to my current (and definitely challenging!) relationship. I have over 23 years of experience in spanking and domestic discipline, starting when I was 19 and got up the nerve to (successfully, if rather awkwardly) ask my first real boyfriend to spank me. Every relationship I've had since then has included spanking and/or domestic discipline, at all ages and life stages and with partners also at all ages and life stages. In each case, I've learned a great deal about how to approach a partner about bringing spanking and/or DD into a relationship (which is the focus of “How to Get the Spanking You Want”) and in each case, have done so successfully. In addition, I've spent the past decade in my "real life" doing professional-level academic and psychological research into male/female gender roles and archetypes, focusing specifically on issues of power and submission, This research has resulted in my serving, both my “real life” self and as Vivian, as a consultant on numerous projects over the past decade, including doctoral theses, journal articles, popular publications, documentaries and narrative films for mainstream Hollywood studios. And of course, exploring these issues on the blog for the past three years (in the context of a particularly intense and challenging relationship due to factors largely external to the DD itself) has helped to focus my explorations enormously. I do hope this clarifies any issues with regard to the background against which this advice is offered.And thank you, Pygar, for supporting what I believe is a much-needed and worthwhile resource for our community. Warmest,Viv"



Now, I think that is a rather remarkable personal "resume," especially in contrast to this very first piece that Vivial wrote and posted at The Disciplined Feminist, in December of 2006:
"Domestic Discipline (DD) is not the same as domestic violence. DD -- true DD -- is not abusive. I know. Because I have lived both. I married my first boyfriend when I was 19. Early in our dating life, clumsily and full of shame, I confessed to him my need for domestic discipline, a need I'd been aware of since I was a small child. Back then, before the internet, I wasn't aware of the actual concept of DD, so the best I could do was to articulate a need to be spanked and generally be sexually dominated. Later that night, while we were having sex, he hit me -- square in the face, hard enough to cause a momentary loss of consciousness. I can still remember what that moment felt like, and the conflicting emotions it brought up for me. The shock, the anger, the pain. And then the confusion -- after all, hadn't I asked for this? Wasn't he giving me just what I had confessed to him that I wanted? No, of course not. Anyone who has practiced genuine DD for even a short time knows that there is no simliarity at all between the consentual, loving and respectful application of discipline and the brutal randomness and cruelty of domestic violence. I know because I have lived both. I should have cut off my relationship with my husband-to-be right immediately after he hit me. At the very least, I should have pointed out -- assertively -- that being hit in the face was NOT what I was asking for. But I said nothing. The reason I said nothing, looking back, was because although I knew that kind of abuse wasn't what I wanted, I was so ashamed of what I DID want that I lacked the courage to clarify or stand up for myself. I was only 19 after all, and back then, I figured I must be such a terrible person for wanting a relationship in which I was physically disciplined that I deserved whatever I got in exchange. So I told myself that I was grateful and fortunate to have man who would so eagerly give me "what I wanted." I also believed, in my ignorance and naivete, that submitting to domestic discipline meant submitting to whatever the man in the relationship wanted to do to me, whether I agreed with it or not. In a DD relationship, a woman consents to being disciplined and the limits to that discipline are safe, sane and mutually-agreed upon. In true LDD, a woman would never be afraid of articulating her needs and experiences to her partner. But I didn't know any of that. And so I married this man who hit me so hard I blacked out. I'll never know for sure whether the violent, abusive behavior that followed was something that would have happened anyway, or something that he allowed himself to inflict on me without restrain because he believed I'd "asked" for it. Regardless...I know what it's like to be beaten with a wire coat hanger until blood runs down my back. I know what it's like to be thrown down a flight of stairs. I know what it's like to locked out of the house, naked, on a freezing winter night, crouching in the bushes, crying and pleading to be let back in before the neighbors saw me. I know what it's like to wear long-sleeved shirts and high collars to cover cuts and bruises. I know what it's like to have the police arrive at the door and telling them that "everything's fine. I know what it's like to have my friends and family tell me I'm so lucky to have "such a great husband," because he puts on his most charming, gallant face when he's around others. I know what it's like to lock him out of the house and watch him take two hours to take the door off the hinges with his car keys, knowing the pain and terror that await when he finally gets back inside. I know what it's like to want to leave, and to be told that I am worthless and that "no one else will ever love you." I know what it's like to try to leave and to arrive at the motel only to find my credit cards have all been reported as "stolen." I know what it's like to have my beautiful, innocent cats murdered in a fit of revenge for my trying to leave him. And I know what it's like to finally leave, to finally say, this is enough and I deserve better. I know because I lived through it Not once, but twice, because the man who "rescued" me from my abusive husband turned out to be abusive as well. So when I say that DD is not domestic violence, I am not theorizing, quoting from a book or engaging in denial and wishful thinking. I say DD is not domestic violence because I have lived both and know from experience that they are not the same thing in any way. When I am beaten by an abusive man, and collapse weeping, terrified, in a corner, afraid for my life, that's abuse. When I submit, willingly, to a firm, but fair spanking by a man I love and trust, because we have mutually agreed that this is the consequence for a behavior we both agree is hurtful to me, him or others, this is Loving Domestic Discipline. When an abusive man stands over me, bleeding and terrified in a corner, and tells me that I'm worthless, that's abuse. When I rise from my discipline feeling more empowered, safe, free and whole than I was before I received it, and step into the loving, forgiving arms of a man whom I know would never betray my trust, that's Loving Domestic Discipline. But the sad truth is that, like any relationship, a DD relationship can turn abusive. I say "turn" rather than "be" because once a relationship becomes abusive, it is definitionally not DD. One of the reasons for this blog is that I see a disturbing trend on the more popular DD blogs and forums toward encouraging abusive behavior towards women in the name of DD. This is frightening to me, and also sad, because it's not at all what DD is meant to be, and I'm concerned that the misuse and misunderstanding of DD will scare away women who would otherwise find fulfillment in this type of relationship.The man I am with now has taken heroic actions protect women whom he knew were being abused. None of the things I list about would be in any way acceptable to him. The man I'm with now actively works to help strengthen organizations that protect abused women and children from violent men. The man I'm with now is a big part of why I now understand that no woman deserves to be beaten or humiliated. And the man I'm with now practices DD with me only after many, many (many!) hours of discussion in which he gently, patiently, respectfully helped me to articulate my needs and wishes in this area. Any woman can find herself in an abusive relationship. But making a DD relationship work requires both parties to possess a great deal of self-confidence and self-respect. The first time my current partner and I tried it, I wasn't strong enough, healed enough, or empowered enough to handle it -- and it failed miserably. Early in my current relationship, I was still too fearful and traumatized from my past abusive relationships to separate the two things in my head. My partner would try to do what I asked for -- he'd try to discipline me -- and I'd freak out. My emotions were all over the map -- fear, anger, "righteous" indignation. He'd spank me and I'd terrified and sobbing, pleading for him to stop, that I didn't really want it after all and it was a mistake. Or more often than not, I'd talk my way out of the spanking because I was too afraid to take it. Fortunately, my partner was perceptive enough to recognize the difference between the sobs and cries of remorse that come with a true disciplinary experience from the terror of a woman not ready for that type of experience. Being a healthy, non-abusive man, he stopped what he was doing immediately - another thing that an abuser would never do.We both realized our relationship wasn't mature enough yet for DD, and so we put it on hold while we worked on the basics of love, trust and respect. This is probably the biggest difference between DD and abuse: LDD is a choice made out of love, trust and mutual respect, whereas abuse flourishes ONLY in the absence of love, trust and respect. I wasn't yet healthy enough to enter into that kind of emotionally mature, intimate relationship with another human being. It took years -- five of them, to be exact -- of personal growth work, of learning to validate myself as a worthwhile human being, of healing past traumas and of getting the abusive ghosts of my abusers out of my head before we could try again. And I've learned along the way that the stronger I get, the more "whole" I become. the more rewarding our DD relationship becomes. This is another crucial difference between abuse and DD -- abuse only "works" on a woman who is so beaten down and lacking in self-respect that she doesn't believe she deserves better. If a woman is in what she believes to be an DD relationship, and feels during her discipline that she is being punished for being worthless, inferior or inadequate, this is not DD. This is abuse. And the longer an abusive relationship continues, the fewer options a woman has for empowering herself enough to escape. DD, on the other hand, isn't possible unless both parties come to the relationship reasonably healthy and emotionally sound. A woman in a true LDD relationship experiences her discipline as just, healthy and healing. And, at least for me, the more my partner and I practice DD, the more empowered I feel, both in and out of the relationship, and the stronger and more capable I become, thus giving me many more options in life than I had before. "


A lifetime of experience establishing successful spanking relationships? Really? Judge for yourselves, but I'd suggest that when someone proposes to write a "How To" book, they ought to KNOW something about "how to."



swan

Calling "Fraud"

OK.

I have a history for this particular move.


Once, a very long time ago, when I was still a very new blogger, I called out the "queen bee" of the blogging universe because there was simply no earthly way that my rational mind could accept that what she wrote on her blog day after day, and presented as reality, could be possibly happening in any kind of real world relationship. It was a ball-sy sort of stand for someone who had barely dipped toes into the universe of writing in this forum, but it was what I believed at the time, and I was driven to say what seemed true.

It didn't earn me any points, and she came after me with a vengeance, but my call turned out to be accurate in the end. For me it was an important lesson. It was critical for me, as I began to reach out into this cyber community, to understand that not everyone tells the whole truth all the time, and not everyone is what they claim to be. If a blogger develops a devoted following, it is pretty easy for the ego to expand beyond what is actually reasonable. The distance and relative anonymity that gives many of us license to write here can encourage some to fabricate and exaggerate. Arrogance can masquerade as expertise and there is not a darn thing we can do about it. I've seen it happen and written about it on other occasions, too: here and here. But we do not have to endorse it when people mislead others by intention or otherwise, and we do not have to stand silent while it happens.

Fraud. That is (in my view) what is being perpetrated by a writer in our circle. Because, in the last couple of weeks, Vivian, who writes at The Disciplined Feminist has published an e-book entitled "How to Get the Spanking You Want." She has been touting this new endeavor, of course, as have some others around the circle, and that is fine. People can surely support her in this effort as seems appropriate to them.

However, I've been following Vivian since she first appeared on the scene (brand new to the very limited practice of Domestic Discipline) in December of 2006. She is, undoubtedly, a bright and talented writer. The pieces that she puts up every so often are well written and thought provoking, but they have been few and far between. In fact, in the just about 30 months that Vivian has been sharing her thoughts on her blog, she's written 37 posts. Much of what she writes concerns the paradox that she perceives between her feminist philosophies and her orientation to spanking. Woven in between is the painful accounting of the largely unsuccessful attempts of she and her partner to establish what she calls a "traditional DD relationship." Comments to "The Disciplined Feminist" are strictly moderated, so Vivian has little need to engage in dialog with most of the rest of our community.

Now, she is pushing a book which is almost certainly based solely on her imaginings of how things must be. There is, if one can believe what she's written on her blog, little or no solid experience to back the words. Master attempted to engage her in discussion of this through her comments, but there is that matter of "comment moderation..."

I imagine she'll draw from a certain following, and some without much knowledge will be taken in by the sham of this new publication. There is a real hunger for information about our lifestyle and orientation from those who are new and seeking, and that is an easy market for a book titled as hers is. How is someone newly exploring their own spanking orientation supposed to know who can be trusted to provide credible information and guidance? Vivian is not the first, and she surely won't be the last to seek to cash in on those who are desperate for guidance and information about our kind of erotic orientation. It still isn't right. If you don't know beyond a few fancy sounding theories: if you don't have the expertise and actual experience; then playing yourself off as some sort of guru is a cheat and a fraud.

I doubt that my opinion will make any difference at all to Vivian or to those who are backing her book venture, but I won't endorse this endeavor by my silence.

swan