Back on the shelf

I don't approve of revisionist theories. If it happened, it happened. There is no good point in looking back with hindsight and repainting the picture.

The simple fact is that when I had a 'discipline' relationship going on, I was very turned on by it. It absolutely intrigued me. Prone to shift about with my emotions and to let them ride me rather than the other way around, I probably needed pulling up. Of course, *I* decided to pull myself up. No one told me that I had to buy into the idea of me needing discipline. I went there all by myself, pretty much.

I can well remember receiving an email from Janus telling me that I was "that sort of girl". I shot back an email and asked him what he meant. I was clueless. He wrote to say that I was the sort of girl who needed discipline. Some of my readers will understand when I say that I was 'up in arms' at this suggestion. Why in the hell would he think that?! I had always been a caring and loving mother, I'd done what I then thought was my best at being a good wife, and I was diligent and hard working. If *I* needed discipline then so did about half the nation with me. His reply to that was that being 'good' most of the time wasn't going to save me now. I'd be called on all behaviour.

On at least one level, the man must have been right, at least at that point in my life. I may have been a bit 'put out' but I was also incredibly hot. When the end of the week rolled around and I found out that my husband and he were serious and I was getting it across the tail for various misdemeanors, I was so turned on I could barely breathe with excitement. Over the next several months, I had some of the most unbelievable sex of my life. My body was wired in a way I had not believed possible and I relished every moment of it.

One week, blissfully unaware of how unrelenting Janus could be when he chose, I managed to ratchet up 52 swats, and also blissfully unaware of how much I was turning my husband into a sadist, I managed to ratchet up 52 strokes of the tawse . I know for a fact that I must have been indescribably hot about being punished at that point because I took it. I most probably did stretch up at least once, but I got down again, too. And, I got every single stroke. There's just no way I'd have done that if on some level I wasn't having one hell of a good time.

Now, with that sort of rigid discipline regime out of my life, I do wonder how I managed to actually 'enjoy' that process. When my husband decided earlier today it would be good for me to feel the sting of the tawse, it was laborious. Three swats to the rear, and I wiggled my way out of position, trying desperately to avoid its bite. He repositioned me and a few swats later, I was howling to the moon again.

Now, I wouldn't be telling the truth if I said that being in that compromising position didn't do good things to me. I was in a state of readiness, if you know what I mean. But nowadays, my aphrodisiac comes from a different thought than in the past. What I now enjoy about a spanking or a whipping or whatever, is the thought that I am bending over with my ass being used as a target because my husband deems that that is what I should have. It is what I should have because it is what he wants and it is what is good for me and what I need. I didn't deserve it, in that I was 'bad'. Rather, I am about to receive it because that is what a good little dollie does: she co-operates. All her needs are well looked after by her owner and getting spanked is just one of them.

Of course, I'm not suggesting that a dolly who is still on her laptop after midnight doesn't get corrected for that behaviour, or that a dolly who doesn't have a bit of an attitude doesn't get a swat across the rear to remind her of her place. That happens, from time to time.

However, nowadays, I don't have to feel that I was 'bad' and that works for me. Being 'bad' was a great burden for me to carry. No matter how hard my edges were pushed on this, my psyche resisted it with all its might.

Sometimes, dollies don't behave as well as their owners would like. Nothing has changed on that score. This dolly is so much better behaved these days, but every now and again, she errs. The boy could spank her if he wished, but the truth is the boy has a much greater weapon at his disposal to which the dolly always responds.

I can feel the doms out there waiting...What is she talking about? What works better than the whip? It is with great hesitation that I tell you this, for it is so powerful, it frightens me even to type the words.

When the dolly won't behave...

When the dolly won't behave, the boy...

Oh dear! Dis is so hard for the dolly to say.

When the dolly won't behave, the boy puts the dolly...

I can hardly bare to type the words.

When the dolly won't behave, the boy puts the dolly...

...back on the shelf!