Refocusing Versus Maintenance Spankings

Samuel writes:

The other day Tonna was really out of sorts: down, crabby, uncomfortable. It wasn’t just about one thing, it was about everything. When any of us feel this way, we need to refocus on what’s important: God, family, charity.

Of course there are many ways to refocus, such as prayer, meditation, rest, writing, conversation, friendship, service, creativity, communing with nature…. For a CDD couple, one way to refocus the CSW (Christian Submissive Wife) is through a spanking.

Now this is a different type of spanking. It is not punishment, nor is it erotic. Instead it is designed for catharsis, to help her release whatever pent-up emotions and thoughts she has inside.

To us, this is quite different from maintenance spankings, which we do not use. Our understanding of maintenance spankings is that they are designed to maintain good behavior: She’s been doing great and hasn’t been spanked in a while, so a spanking is applied to remind her to keep being good. We find this counterintuitive to the concept of reward and punishment: she is being punished as a reward? But we know it works for some couples; some have regularly scheduled maintenance spankings, like every Friday night, while other couples just use them when needed. And maybe they don’t consider them punishment … just as we don’t consider refocusing to be punishment.

So the other day I told her she needed refocusing; of course she knew what that meant.

“I really don’t feel like it,” she said.

“I know,” I replied. “But it is something you need.”

She shook her head, but came to my side. I had her lower her pants and bend over my knee. I started spanking her lightly on her panties in a fast rhythm. After about 20 swats I leaned to my left so that my face was close to hers, and I began speaking to her very softly, soothingly. I continued spanking her, varying the intensity from light to medium, while I spoke to her.

“You’re a wonderful woman,” I said. “A wonderful Christian, a wonderful wife, a wonderful submissive. You are going to be a wonderful mother, hopefully soon. These things that are bothering you are not what’s important. I love and cherish you…”

I asked her to take some deep, slow breaths, and to close her eyes. I went on in that vein for several minutes, “caressing” her with both my voice and my hand.

A couple of times I sat back up and concentrated more on the spanking, then leaned back down and concentrated more on speaking to her. Eventually I paused, gently rubbing her bottom. I leaned down.

“I feel so much calmer,” she whispered.

“I know, sweetheart,” I said. “I know.”

And that is how we refocus a CSW!

 

Tonna:

Yea, verily!  Samuel has made me a true believer of the positive effects of “refocusing” spankings.  On the day in question, I affirm that I was in fact thouroughly “out of sorts.” For one thing we were rushing around packing to leave from visiting my parents and were heading back home.  Plus we had just ended an enjoyable but somewhat whirlwind trip. 

I was not whatsoever in the mood for ANY kind of spanking – I just wanted to finish doing everything I needed to do and leave.  Samuel, however, having lovingly observed my frenzied state thought that it would be to my benefit to be settled down a bit before we jumped in the car and on the road.  He was right!  After the spanking, and even during for that matter, I felt myself regaining composure and peace of mind, my breathing slowed down and my spirits perked up – by the time he was finished I actually didn’t want to get off his lap, I had become so peaceful and relaxed.  It was true catharsis, pure and simple…

If I was ever in a commercial it wouldn’t be for Calgon…mine would be,”Oh paddle!  Take me away…”

 

 

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Writing Lines….

Tonna:  Many DD or CDD couples incorporate the punishment of writing lines as a part of a disciplinary measure.  This is often prescribed in addition to a spanking, but can sometimes stand alone as a manner of correction in itself.  For me personally, I find it particularly tedious.  I enjoy writing, but having to mindlessly write the same line over and over again is enough to make me feel like running screaming into the night! 

Yesterday marked the second time in our relationship that Samuel has  had me write lines.  The first time had been for repeatedly being late for work, and I had to write the line 200 times.  Yesterday it was having disobeyed when I did something Samuel told me I was not allowed to do without his prior, expressed permission. (I’m not going to mention it specifically; it’s just too private.)  It was a new rule, and I had disobeyed on the point several times in the few days after it had been put in place.  To say I was displeased and in disagreement over this new rule is an understatement, and I acted out defiantly to express my frustration. 

I had been sneaking it behind Samuel’s back, which in retrospect seems really silly to me now because 9 times out of 10 my guilty conscience gets the better of me, and I wind up confessing to him what I’ve done anyway.  My punishment over the issue is being broken up into a couple parts.  First I was spanked for disobeying, then I had to write 100 lines over it, and I’ve yet to be spanked for having lied when Samuel questioned me over the matter.  I wasn’t feeling well yesterday and so was spared the hairbrushing I was promised.  Today, however, is another matter….

As far as the lines were concerned, though, I think I would actually rather have been spanked twice.  It was annoying to write them, and it took much longer than I thought it would. Since Samuel has only had me write lines once before, I had forgotten how long it takes.  It is however, effective; I really, really, really don’t want to have to write lines again IN ADDITION to being spanked. 

I have a special notebook for him to review periodically in which I record how I’ve been obeying the rules Samuel and I have set down and to keep track of how I’ve failed or misbehaved.  It’s in this notebook that I’ve been writing my lines.  It’s not something I want to leave lying around, but I do believe in keeping a sort of discipline journal, and I think Samuel finds it helpful as well — it keeps us both on our toes. 

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The hairbrush

A little bigger brush than Samuel uses...

A word on hairbrushes:

Here is what I wrote first on this subject, when Samuel asked me to:
Just say no! I hate that hairbrush. He makes me keep it in my purse. As a reminder, he says. I hate that hairbrush.

Here is what I wrote after a little reflection … and a couple of threats to see it in action:
As far as implements are concerned, the hairbrush, or any wooden implement, is among my least favorite toys in Samuel’s vast arsenal. When he tells me to go get the hairbrush, I feel pure concentrated dread. A little goes a long way with a hairbrush. This glaringly obvious fact seems to escape many an HoH. And while they think they may be “taking it easy on you,” just its very use is a notch up on the disciplinary rung among implements. Wood is unforgiving: the sting seems to last longer; the bite is more cutting.

Thankfully, it’s not used on me casually or often. When it is, it is a very effective “bad behavior” deterrent. I’d rather be spanked with anything else … and Samuel knows it.

Samuel insists that I keep it in my purse at all times. A rather cumbersome obligation, since it is large and heavy and awkward to fumble around when trying to locate smaller objects, such as my keys. We had discussed me having permission to remove it, since we were seldom using it. Samuel did let me take it out for a while several months ago, but something happened — neither of us remembers the details — and now it is back in its hated place.

There is something unique about the hairbrush in that, unlike many other implements, most people would not suspect the various possible ways it can be used. This is not the case, for example, with paddles or a tawse or a strap. In this respect, the hairbrush is like the belt: It’s always nearby, and looks quite innocent, but … there it is, lurking in the dark recesses of my purse, hoping for the opportunity to be applied to more than my head!

Tonna

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Tonna and knives

Tonna has some rather odd habits with knives. For one, she licks them at the dinner table. For another, she leaves them lying around, like on the sofa. She got spanked twice today for her knife behavior.

We have discussed this a number of times, and she feels I am being a little too strict to forbid this behavior. After all, the knives she licks at the table are not sharp steak knives, but regular dinner knives. However, I have told her that such behavior is forbidden, and given her three reasons:

1. It is potentially dangerous; even a dinner knife can cut.
2. It is rude dinner time behavior, quite uncouth.
3. We are planning to have children, and it is extremely bad role modeling, and we both may as well get started on proper behavior now.

So today, Tonna was working on a large pile of accumulated mail. I have three jobs for other people and two businesses and I get a LOT of mail, and it is wonderful to now have such a wonderful helpmeet. Tonna is my all-purpose personal assistant spouse: housewife, chef, secretary, property manager, laundress, maid, interior decorator, shopper, companion, executive assistant, and … mail processor! What an amazing woman!

Anyway, she was sitting on the couch with a huge pile of mail on the coffee table, and she was using a serrated kitchen knife to open the envelopes. At one point she got up to do something, and I noticed the knife sitting on the couch cushion. When she came back I mentioned it to her and we kind of joked about it:

“What would happen if I sat down there without seeing it?” I asked.

“You’d have a knife sticking in your butt,” she replied.

We both giggled but I also told her to go get it off the couch immediately, which she did, but with a sigh.

Not ten minutes later I walked by the couch again … and there lay the knife! I waited for her to return to the kitchen and told her to get over to the love seat. She knew what was coming and asked me why. I pointed to the knife.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said, and I believe she was. But consequences still were in order. I had her bend over the arm of the love seat, lifted her skirt and began to spank her over her panties and panty hose. It was not a severe spanking, and I did not make her undress further, but it did get the point across. I don’t think I will be seeing knives on the couch again. But … then came knife incident number 2, less than an hour later!

We were at dinner, about halfway through. We were eating leftovers; I had Chinese, while she had a sausage with potatoes and sauerkraut. As she finished a bite, she stuck her dinner knife deep into her mouth and licked both sides of it. I gave her a look, and she looked back with wide-eyed innocence.

“You don’t even know what you did!” I said. She shook her head that she did not know. “You just licked your knife,” I said.

“Oh come on, it’s just a butter knife!” she exclaimed. “Don’t be such a baby!”

I paused for just a second and then said, “Get over to the love seat right now!”

She began to argue but I cut her off and told her to get moving. I followed her over there and bent her over the arm of the couch.

“What are you being spanked for?” I asked.

“For licking the knife,” she said.

“Nope,” I replied. “What are you being spanked for?”

“For calling you a baby?”

“Yes, for being disrespectful to your HoH,” I said. “I wasn’t even going to spank you for the knife, just talk to you about it. And you know I love your sense of humor. But when I have just corrected you is not the time to be sassy.”

“I know…” she said.

Up came the skirt again and she got another 20 or so crisp smacks on her pantyhose. She was saying “ouch” quite a bit by the time I was done, and she agreed to no more knife licking. (By the way it was NOT a butter knife but a regular dinner knife with a serrated side.) I told her to get up and I hugged her tightly and told her I love her, which is how just about every spanking ends. She apologized for her smart mouth. We went back to the table … and there hasn’t been a knife incident for about two hours. So that’s a good thing!

Tonna:  So….yeah, the knives.  It’s wonderful to have such a protective HoH, no, really it is….I mean it…..I love it….really. 

Ok, I admit the knife on the couch was a little irresponsible.  Although I have to say I think it would be more likely that one of us would unwittingly poke a hole in our new couch rather than our backsides, still, it’s not a good idea and I agreed with Samuel when he pointed it out to me….the first time.  Just kidding, I agreed the second time as well.  I was especially fully supporting his position on the matter while my upturned bottom was being smacked over the arm of the couch.  It was then that I saw his point quite clearly and became a firm supporter.  Samuel can be quite persuasive in those moments, as you might imagine. 

The licking of the knife at the dinner table thing…that’s a little harder for me to get my panties in a bunch about.  It’s really, really tempting to toss one of my signature eye-rolls his way on that one, nevertheless, I’m trying, obediently, to break the habit which I happen to disagree is “uncouth.”  Why, oh, why is it that all the other silverware is acceptable to put to one’s mouth and the knife is somehow pariah?  Nevermind, I know I’m probably in the minority here and Samuel has made his displeasure known so it’s really a moot point but this is just one of those “issues” I guess.  Not in itself significant, I would say, but my submission to Samuel is, so that alone makes it worth the effort. 

Might I add that since it was just last night that I had been disciplined with a certain degree of enthusiasm over the not-being-home-when-I-should-have-been-and-leaving-no-note-thing, I was really wincing at the smacks I received over the arm of the couch since my bottom was still tender from last night. 

I’ve confided to Samuel that I think - contrary to my position of a couple weeks ago – that I do need Samuel to spank me harder than he has been recently.  I hate to admit it but I need to be pushed just slightly beyond my comfort zone in order to help me cultivate a healthy respect and “fear” of him.  It’s a real push/pull with me.  I want to give up more control but at the same time it’s a real struggle for me to do so to the degree I feel I want and need to.  So, for the second time, Samuel has taken my feedback on the matter to heart and adjusted to my needs as a loving and responsible HoH.  I appreciate that tremendously. 

Yeah, it’s pretty awesome having such a wonderful HoH….

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Accountability

Tonna:  Accountability is a crucial part of the CDD dynamic.  The ‘CSW’ (Christian Submissive Wife) lives or should be trying to live in a state of true, interior and exterior submission to her Head of Household.  I’m not there yet.  Even though I try to make improvements on my behavior and manner of interaction with Samuel as far as my speech and actions are concerned, there is often a whole tumultuous universe of defiance and insubordination brewing just under the surface which he may or may not catch glimpses of from time to time.  Even though I know it is wrong to be submissive only or predominantly on the exterior level – I figure I have to start to try to make progress somewhere and it’s easier for Samuel to assist me in my endeavors with things he can actually witness.  The obvious problem with this frame of mind however is that that which is brewing ‘just under the surface’ often has a way of inevitably bubbling over with disastrous results for our relationship and my bottom!  I think the events I’m about to unfold were the result of a not-so subordinate interior spirit when I chose to act independently of my HoH’s expressed and implied command that I be accountable to him as to my whereabouts.  As a CSW, I am expected and furthermore, I choose, to ask for Samuel’s permission concerning where I am allowed to go, when and with whom.  I think any loving, thoughtful spouse says, “Hey, I’m running out for a bit to do such and such, be back soon….” But in our CDD relationship, I say this with the understanding that Samuel has the authority to forbid me to just go running wherever I want, whenever I want. 

A few days ago, however, I had a rather flippant notion in my head that it would be no big deal for me to run out shopping while Samuel was at work even if he returned when I was gone without me taking the time or making the effort of leaving him a note or in any way contacting him to let him know where I would be. 

On the one hand, I remember thinking, “I’ll be quick, I only have a few places to go and my stops will be brief, more than likely I’ll be home before him…”  Not surprisingly, I could not have been more wrong – my stops, the three that were planned took much longer than I’d anticipated and I wound up throwing in a fourth on a whim - and before the night was over, my fuming HoH had me over his lap on our bed where he made known to me in no uncertain terms how displeased he was that not only was I not home when he came home – a norm in our household – but I had left him no way of knowing where I was or when I would be back.  My guilt was further compounded by the fact that since I was using my GPS on my phone to navigate around to my destinations, I failed to answer his calls that he made from home in an attempt to locate me.  When I finally did call, I knew immediately I was in trouble. 

Samuel’s normal disposition toward me is loving, sweet, gentle, playful, romantic and passionate.  When he’s silent and brooding, I know I will be going to bed that night with a stinging, red bottom. 

Not only was I not home when my HoH returned home, not only did I not leave a note or text to tell him where I would be and when I would be back, not only did I not immediately answer his calls or texts to me but I was also over an hour late getting home from the time he arrived and I failed to allow time to make dinner so he had eaten leftovers by himself. 

He was pretty worried and irritated with me at my thoughtlessness and as soon as I finished putting away the groceries needing refrigeration I was gently led by the hand into our bedroom for a “talk” he wanted to have with me concerning the events of the night. 

Samuel must have a different definition of ‘talk’ than I do because, as far as I know, most ‘talks’ don’t end with one party having to drop their underwear to their ankles… Who knows, maybe I need to get out more!

Nevertheless, our ‘talk’ left quite an impression on me in more ways than one and in the past several days I have left Samuel either a note or a text when I left home even if I had spoken to him earlier about a likely excursion that would occur later in the day.  I’m learning.  But most of all as a CSW it’s important to me to please my HoH and to be truly submissive to him- this issue of accountability, which manifests itself in many and varied ways is just one more instance of me lovingly striving to do that.

Tonna

I love you, Tonna. I love how you can analyze and understand our relationship. I love seeing the growth in your submission. I just may be the happiest HoH alive. God bless!

Samuel

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CSW

We don’t know who coined the term HoH (Head of Household), but it’s certainly a good one for the man in a CDD relationship. We haven’t spotted something comparable for the woman, so we decided to coin our own: CSW, for Christian Submissive Wife. It’s kind of nice having a private abbreviation, as in, “Are you being a good CSW right now?”

Maybe it will catch on the way HoH has!

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Limits

When a new CDD couple comes together, one of the key issues is “limits” — and that usually refers to how much punishment is appropriate, and how much pain the CSW (Christian Submissive Wife) can take, or should be subjected to. But we encountered a different kind of limit recently, though it did result in a spanking.

We have been doing some whirlwind traveling, both to visit relatives and to look for a house in a new community. This week I decided that we would take one of those trips: we left Tuesday evening, arriving at our destination in the middle of the night, and left there to return Wednesday evening, arriving home in the middle of the night. So there was too much driving and not enough sleep.

I have done this kind of thing before by myself without much problem. But for Tonna it was very difficult. On the second night she was extremely grumpy, and her mouth started to get away from her. Now Tonna grew up in a family where swearing is quite acceptable — in fact we were at a family dinner on this trip at  which the S-word flew around repeatedly … in front of two little children. So we come from very different backgrounds; nobody swore in my house, and if we did it was a backhand slap.

Tonna knows that she is not allowed to swear, and she totally agrees with this rule, believing, as I do, that it is not ladylike and it is not well-representing the Lord or her HoH to the community. But while she was taking her shift driving in the middle of the night, she let fly with an S-word and a couple of A-hole comments regarding other drivers. I told her that her speech was unacceptable but I did it rather gently, as it was paramount to keep peace at that moment. She was on the verge of melting down due to lack of sleep and highway boredom. And I realized that this trip was a mistake — MY mistake. As her HoH, it is my responsibility to keep her safe — and not just physically but emotionally, mentally and spiritually, too. And I put her in a situation that she couldn’t handle. I need to learn more about Tonna, and what her limits are, and protect her from crossing those limits — or help her expand them as needed. This is the responsibility — even the burden — of an HoH who takes his mandate seriously. It is not enough to be the decision-maker; I need to make decisions that are in the best interests of the family, and this one was not. We did not need to go on this trip. It was designed as a fun “adventure” to see a house that had excited us when we saw the online pictures. But I could have planned a longer excursion — just not right then. And I tend to get very excited about such things, and want to just drop everything and go-go-go. That’s easy when it is just me, but it is not just me any more, and I put Tonna in an unhealthy situation. For which I apologize … and promise to do better in terms of understanding her limits.

After all that is said … she is still getting spanked for her mouth!!!

Samuel

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