Have You Noticed....?

I don’t think I’m the only person in the whole world who becomes sexually aroused by some of the weirdest things. Have you paid attention to what leaves your belly aquiver?

. . . feeling especially satisfied about an article I’ve just written (whether in my vanilla world or my spanking world
. . . digging in my garden and coming in tired
. . . a visual image that pops into my head when I see something a bit bizarre
. . . writing this blog
. . . reading a seductive passage in a book or post that is particularly sensuous
. . . eating either a simple or gourmet meal with my lover
. . . food is and can be especially titillating
. . . thunder and lightning
. . . a bowl of fresh ginger, knowing what can be done with it
. . . my lover’s voice on the phone (sounds like liquid dark chocolate)
. . . a deep and complicated mystery novel
. . . my new red shiny sexy snakeskin (artificial) purse
. . . tight jeans
. . . my lover’s belt draped across a chair
. . . the smell of our sheets right after he’s gone home
. . . the smell of rain in the air
. . . classical guitar music (playing and listening to it)
. . . feathers and incense
. . . climbing a tree
. . . the sound of crunching gravel
. . . brie and hot homemade bread

I can’t handle any more of this. I need to take a nap.

Purple Woman - "Kinky is a relative concept."

What Is A Feminist?

I can’t recall how this topic came up, but a few weeks ago, I casually mentioned to a friend that my lover was the head of our household even though we don’t live together. She’s my very best and closest friend, so of course we share the same political beliefs. She was horrified at my comment.

“We discuss whatever we need to, both of us giving our input,” I responded, “but someone must have the ultimate decision, so he has that.”

“But that’s like a traditional marriage!” she said.

I nodded my head, then dropped the topic. Nothing was said about spanking. I was feeling her out in terms of my sexual lifestyle, something she knows very little about, in spite of being friends.

So much has been written by other women (and probably a few men) about how feminism fits into the spanking slash domestic discipline lifestyle. I’m sure I can’t add anything that hasn’t already been said. All I can do here is add my own perspective.

Yes, I consider myself a fiercely independent feminist and I have been since the 70s (yeah, I’m an old hippie!). I was part of the early movement that freed up women to live the kind of life we live today. It was not about uni-sex bathrooms, or giving up control. It was about women having equal rights. In fact, for years, I carried around a card in my wallet printed with the Equal Rights Amendment to show people who wanted to argue with me about what it meant.

The fact that the ERA didn’t pass as an amendment shows how fearful people are about giving women control over themselves. It hasn’t been that many years since my grandmother took up the campaign that allowed women to vote!

The ERA did mean I could have a career that paid me what I was worth in terms of education and experience. It meant that I could make my own decisions about my body around birth control and meds, and the like. It meant that I didn’t have to take shit from anyone about the way I lived my life. It meant I could be as sexual as any male without shame.

The ERA did not take away my gentility as a woman. It did not take away the feelings I have around my sexuality.

Years ago, I had a friend who was a Colonel in the Marine Corps and she (yes, SHE) was also a Fundamentalist Christian. Her comment to me was how difficult it was to be in charge of so many men at work, then go home to be the submissive wife. I wanted so much to explain that she didn’t need to make that decision, but she wouldn’t have been open to hearing that.

I deliberately choose to have my lover be my HoH. I choose to have him be the one to make decisions. I choose to give him the power to put me over his lap and administer whatever kind of discipline he feels is necessary. And I continue to choose to accept his spankings for whatever reason he desires, whether that is for his arousal (or mine), or for punishment (which is seldom).

If having a sore red bottom that feels hot to the touch (lordy!) does nothing more than turn me on, then I have achieved my goal as a feminist. I’m allowed to feel my sexuality today, something I was not allowed to feel when I was a high school student, struggling against what my body and mind craved.

Purple Woman
Spanking - the complete woman’s stress reliever

Thank you, Santa!

Last night I had a fantasy that felt almost real. Even though I am very much an adult, sometimes I don’t act like one, and the only way the behavior can be corrected is with an over-the-knee experience. So I want to thank Santa for a wonderful fantasy.

Thank you, Santa, for the spanking you gave me last night.

Thank you for understanding my need to vent my anger.

Thank you for taking the time out of your busy season to address my discipline.

Thank you for helping me see that I must ask for what I need, not rely on mind-reading.

Thank you for pushing me a little further than I wanted to be pushed.

Thank you for introducing me to Mrs. Claus and your cute elves. I never realized how much fun a group of like-minded people can be.

Thank you for the thrill of it all – even though the reality was only in my head.

My Christmas Eve

I have a very childish dream – to be over Santa’s lap. It’s not a fantasy of a “real” Santa at the North Pole, but one of those wonderful men who frequent the malls dressed like Santa. They are so big and bear-like, and I can just imagine their strong hands coming down on my bum. Some of them are definitely a turn-on, but then I like older men anyway.

At first, Santa would let me sit on his knee to tell him what I want. Could I ask for it? I don’t think so, because it is almost impossible for me to ask my SO for a spanking. I need to get over that, because sometimes he says he forgets and needs a reminder, but somehow that doesn’t seem legitimate.

So I would probably be very shy and giggly if Santa asked me what I want. How would I say what I want? I have created a little scenario, as I climb up on his knee.

Santa: So, sweetie, what do you want for Christmas?

Purple: Oh, Santa, I’ve been a bad girl – a very bad girl.

Santa: And what do you think Santa needs to do about that? Would you like ashes and switches in your stocking?

Purple: No, Santa, I don’t want that. I want…Oh, Santa, I have a hard time asking for what I need. I can’t even ask it in pretend.

Santa: Are you saying that you want me to put you over my knee right here in front of everyone and give you a hard spanking? Is that what you want?

Purple: (nodding with tears in my eyes)

Santa: Let me help you out here. Repeat these words after me. ”Santa…”

Purple: Santa…

Santa: “please”

Purple: please…

Santa: “spank”

Purple: s…s…sp, uh s…spank

Santa: “me”

Purple: me…(crying)

Santa: That was very hard for you, wasn’t it?

Purple: (nodding again)

Santa: You must learn to ask for what you need. Now, if you will wait over there in that corner between the rocking horses and the baby dolls, when I finish seeing these last few children, you may come back over and we’ll see what I can grant your wish. Can you do that for me?

Purple: Yes, Santa.

Santa: And stand with your nose to the wall. Now run along.

Purple: Yes, Santa. (I hop down and go to the corner he indicated)

LATER…. Santa come up behind me and takes my hand, leads me back to his big chair. All the children have gone home with their parents. Last minute shoppers linger, unaware of the scene that is about to take place. He sits down and pulls me up to sit on his knee again.

Santa: Now that you’ve had your corner time, I will grant your wish. But first, what did you did so bad that you think you deserve a spanking, hmmm?

Purple: I had naughty thoughts about my lover not being with me on Christmas. I was angry with the situation that keeps him from me.

Santa: Ah, anger isn’t good, my child. You know he would be with you if he could, and that’s the important thing. His physical presence isn’t as important as his love for you.

Purple: (pouting) I know.

Santa: Do you want to pretend it is him giving you this spanking you so richly deserve?

Purple: Oh, no, Santa! I want to know it is you!

Santa: (a big grin on his face) Okay, then, get up and put yourself over my knee the other way. That’s it, and hang onto my leg. I’ll start out over your nice tight jeans. Oh, those look so nice on you. Does your honey like you in tight jeans?

Purple: Yes, Santa. OW! (Santa’s hand comes down – again and again)

Santa: Now get up and loosen those jeans. Your old Santa needs to get to the heart of this situation. That’s better! Oh, nice panties! Did your sweetie give you those?

Purple: Yes, Santa... OW! OW! (wiggling)

Santa: Now let me pull those pretty panties down a bit so you get the full benefit of this punishment. I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of spanking a grown woman on Christmas Eve. Wait until I tell Mrs. Santa. She likes her spankings, too!

Purple: Oh, Santa, do you have to pu….OW! OUCH! PLEEEEEZE! (kicking my feet)

Santa: (rubbing my bare bottom after a long spell of spanking) Do you feel a little better now? Did it help to cry and get all that anger out?

Purple: (sobbing – and nodding)

Santa: Thank me in words, don’t just nod your head.

Purple: Th…thank y…y…you, S…S…..ohhhhhhhhh! (crying) Santaaahhhh!

Santa: That’s a good girl. Now let me pull up your panties and you can pull up your jeans. Would you like to come home and meet Mrs. Claus? I think she’d like to meet you, too, along with my feisty elves. Ho! Ho! Ho!

And that’s how it would start. In my imagination, he was a very sexy Santa, almost as sexy as my lover, and just as real on this lonely Christmas Eve.

Lack of Spank

I continue to read many of the posts written by those who get spanked, plus the few written by those who do the spanking. There seems to be a general theme among the spankees, one that indicates they don’t get as many spankings as they wish, or feel they need.

I’ve been contemplating the reasons for this. Maybe I’m not reading the right blogs, but it seems to me that those who get the right amount – not too many and not too few – don’t feel the need to write about it. There is always a certain longing in the blogs I read.

Of course, I understand that longing, and that’s what I write about, too. The aching that comes is almost physical. My entire body seems to throb and quiver, my skin is more sensitive, my hands are shaky, my breath comes faster, I feel faint – even my bowels and bladder are in an uproar, and no, it’s not the flu.

When the craving is strongest, my head is in a fog, my eyes glaze over, my thoughts are focused, I am completely distracted from whatever is going on around me. I’m in a distant place, and I fear it is noticeable when I am with friends.

No one has said, “Are you dreaming about being spanked again?” No one has come to my rescue and said, “Here! Come over my knee and I will relieve your agony.” Not one soul wonders why I am so distracted or worries about my vague responses when I do rouse myself long enough to answer.

The need we have defies all bounds of sexuality. It is not about any of the “isms” of our lives, but rather it is a deep call to connect with the basic drives of the id, a necessity for survival, infantile in its origins yet adult in its satisfaction.

Other duties call me today, but I am not present to those requirements. Only this one essential act can bring me back to life. If I do those activities that are required of me, I could stave off the yearning of my body, but I don’t want to. I take pleasure in that luscious feeling of hunger for the intimate pain only a spanking can bestow.

He will be here in three weeks – can I survive?

Yes, I can and I will.

What Is Your Dress Code?

Some have specific attire that is to be worn when being disciplined.

For my man, it is not a consistent thing.

Sometimes he likes tight jeans he can lower.

Sometimes he wants a full, swirly skirt he can flip up easily.

Sometimes he enjoys seeing me in loose silk trousers.

No matter what he requests of me, he loves to see me in panties that are especially beautiful. And they must fit a certain way. Then he takes great pleasure in slowly taking them down.

I don’t have a preference, other than to please him with my attire. He does buy clothes for me – not only incredibly sexy panties but jeans and dress pants that he likes. It’s wonderful, because I don’t have to think about what to wear when he’s around.

And when I am to meet him when he comes in on the plane, he always asks what I plan to wear.

Other men in my past life haven’t cared what I wore at all, so this is refreshing and rather sexy, I think.

Whatever I have on, he is usually more interested in the panties.

It’s nice to feel admired.

Purple Woman - If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

Lovely Lust

This morning, the lust is heavy in my body for the man I love. It is so heavy that I sit here moaning, needing relief.

In the past, I quickly grew tired of the men I was with, and the excitement never lasted past the one year mark, if it even lasted that long. Probably my boredom came from the lack of the spanking I didn’t know my body was craving. I was always looking for that “something more.”

And now, I have been in a relationship with this man for four years and I still get extremely randy just thinking about him, chatting with him online, planning for his visits. Still the throbbing in my vagina is not only for his penis.

What I want is to be over his lap, skirt up and panties down, trembling for the touch of his hand. It is such a simple act, a simple posture, a simple thought, yet I can hardly sit still as I write this. Those who have an established Domestic Discipline relationship might laugh at my innocence and the simplicity of what I desire. Or they may remember when they were just starting out in that lifestyle.

I know that most women who crave spanking discipline experience the same feelings of love/hate for the pain. When I’m ready for him to stop, and he does, I’m sorry that he didn’t continue beyond the point where I thought I couldn’t take it any longer.

Maybe if the spanking he gives is truly for discipline or punishment for something I have done or not done, he would continue. But at this stage of his ability, he doesn’t want to hurt me, and if I tell him I’ve had enough, he takes me at my word.

A “real” spanking that is for discipline would go on until he felt he had accomplished his purpose, not just because I asked him to quit.

I’m not the only woman who doesn’t cry when spanked. It never gets that far. Why does crying seem to be so important to me? I think it’s because it would signify that I had been taken beyond my own threshold of pain, that he had ultimately been in control.

There have been times when he would tell me to dress appropriately, then bend over the couch and be ready for when he comes in. I do that, but I know he has not meant it in a disciplinary way, even as he tries to sound stern, but as a prelude to sex, so I can’t seem to get into it.

He does a beautiful warm-up, but I don’t want a warm-up. I want the real thing. I want to be grabbed and pulled over his lap and given a hard, fast spanking that really hurts.

Or do I?

Purple Woman - “He who loves much beats hard.” (Polish proverb)

A Holiday Gift for Myself

For the longest time, I have been reading every blog about spanking I could find. As I read each one, I think “That’s exactly what I’m feeling/going through/wanting.” I decided to give myself the gift of telling my own story this holiday season.

If anyone discovers this blog, I hope you enjoy it. Please make comments and take part in any discussions I offer. This isn't meant to be a “spectator sport,” but a place where all spankees and spankers can offer their opinions and share stories.

A lot of what I write here will be real – something that actually happened to me. Some of it will be fantasy – stories I’ve written in order to scratch that itch. And some will be a combination of reality and fantasy – those times when the reality began as a fantasy (or vice versa) and ended up as something quite different.

Someday I will tell a story of how and when I came to realize my need for spanking. This time, I intend to start with the “now” of my life.

Currently, I am involved in a long distance relationship with a man who is legally committed to another. Even though it is merely a legal and financial arrangement, it still keeps us from being together permanently.

Sometimes I wonder if the relationship isn’t better the way it is, with visits only every two to three weeks? There are many pros to that, but the cons do get to me.

I don’t think he’s entirely comfortable in being my HOH. He’s been a “yes, dear” man for too long, and it pisses me off every time he says that to me. I do not want that. I want to be “taken in hand,” even though I am and always have been an ardent feminist (good topic for another blog).

Does he spank me? Oh, yes! And he does a wonderful job. At this point, however, I think it is nothing more than a unique form of foreplay for him. It is that for me, as well, but I also want it for much more than that. It’s a strange middle of the road sentiment.

If I am ever brave enough to share this blog with my lover, he will discover what I need from him. Let me say first that I want his unencumbered presence. After being his for almost four years, he still is all I want for Christmas, and all those Christmases I must spend without him being close enough to touch.

Purple Woman - Submissive by choice