I just realized it’s been almost a month since I posted anything here. It’s not that things aren’t happening here. They are. In my vanilla life and in my submissive life. Little things, big things, all kinds of things.

Here’s a sampler of the kinds of things happening:

I got a message from some Dom on Fetlife. You know how I love my Fetlife adventures, even the not-so-good ones. He said he wanted to ask me questions about spanking. But –

I’m not really talking to random Doms on Fet these days. So I messaged him back and politely let him know that.

Then I looked at my profile. It clearly said that I was looking for friends and I invited people to message me (as long as they didn’t send dick pics) I literally said I was looking for people to chat with. Seeing that made me feel like I was the Fetlife jerk this time!

So I updated my profile and went back to add a line to my message apologizing for the misleading ‘About me’ on my profile. I felt a bit foolish – but it was a good opportunity for the update and to think about why I’m still on Fet.

Then I went for a walk. Hot and not a cloud in the sky, but big raindrops suddenly plopping down all around me. The rain cloud must have been right over my head, like a frigging cartoon. Luckily, I don’t melt, and it cooled me down a bit.

Little adventures. Sometimes, that’s what life is.

There have been spankings. Three days in a row last week, and then two more days moving into this week, with the wooden spoon and the tawse.

One day, in an early morning video call, Sir tells me to get my hanger. Did I tell you, it hangs on the wall in my office now? It is a reminder, every time I look up from my computer, that I belong to Sir and that there will be spankings.

“Turn around,” he says.

Hanger in hand, I turn.

“With your left hand,” he says, “Tuck your caftan into your belt. Yes, like that. Your bottom completely exposed.”

Feeling very exposed, I wait.

“Bend forward,” he says, “Left hand on the chair. A little bit more. Yes, there.” He pauses, I wait.

“Three on each side,” he says.

The hanger swishes as I bring it down on my right cheek, then on my left.

“Again,” he says. “Three more on each side.”

It is beginning to sting, and then sting more each time the hanger lands on my bottom.

Then he began to ask me – “Three more?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Six more?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Six more?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Because even though he was asking, there was no chance I would say no. I lost count of how many, but it was enough. Enough that he watched my bottom go from striped to patches of red. Enough that my bottom tingles and my nipples harden, heat flares between my thighs.

When he is finished, I release – he tells me to release – my caftan. The silky material falls over my warm bottom, and I sit, a bit gingerly, but happy. {Yes, my Sir pointed out the need to correct that first sentence. 😊

All day, the spanking lingers with me, making me smile. I love that he can walk into my morning, spank me, and leave, and he leaves me feeling connected and cared for, longing for more. I’m working all day, trying not to think about how much I’d like to please him with my mouth, to caress him…

Well.

I may not have everything I want, and I’m sure I never will – even if I had more, you know how greedy submissive girls are. I have a lot right now, and I won’t lose sight of that.

And my life is pretty good, at least the parts I can control. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been reading my old blog posts – you know, the ones that WordPress points me to every day. They’re funny and sad and it’s a bit strange to look back that way. Like reading an old diary. But it gives me some perspective, and I appreciate that.

So I’ll close with a quote. This is from the historian Howard Zinn, Jon Kabat-Zinn’s father, in his book, You Can’t Be Neutral on a Moving Train: A Personal History of Our Times

“The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.”