Saturday, October 17, 2009

My Bottom Hurts...

But for the wrong reasons.

I promised an update, and I will be a good girl and deliver. Red and I have been getting by fairly well. He's still struggling with his illness, but his doctors are paying extremely close attention to him since our close call, and he is getting good treatment. All tests are showing that his body is recovering well.

I'm also doing well too. Early in 2009, I think I posted about being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. My treatment for that, a simple pill each morning, has me feeling tons better in a lot of ways.

There is no denying, however, that Red and I have had a crash course in how to manage extreme stress over the past several months. And of course, with Red's health being the issue that it is, our discipline arrangement has taken a back seat. I'm not exactly sure where things stand at the moment, discipline-wise. I've gotten some playful swats, and a couple of light, playful spankings, but no discipline for quite some time.

I know that I've written in the past about how our discipline arrangement helps me emotionally. Having to learn to manage without it has been a challenge, but one that I think I'm finally doing well with. As my energy has improved from the thyroid treatment, I've taken up the sport of running. I've gone from being a person who wouldn't necessarily run even when chased, to someone who runs several miles a day on a regular basis.

I remember when I started to take up running, and I was huffing and puffing my way through my workout, I thought to myself, "This is worse than a spanking. Maybe I'm subconsciously trying to discipline myself."

Well, it turns out that in a way, I have. Thyroid treatment and increased exercise has lead to weight loss, of course. And weight loss has lead to baggy clothing. Baggy clothing rubs against your skin more when you move. Running in panties that are now too big on me has completely chaffed my poor bottom. It now looks and feels like Red went to town on my poor behind, when he never laid a finger on me.

I felt a bit silly as Red lovingly put baby powder on my backside, but he assured me that he loved taking care of my bottom. Then he made me promise to go buy some new clothes, and added, "I don't want to have to spank you when your bottom is like this."

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

I Love My Lurkers!

In some ways I'm still more of a lurker than a blogger. It took me years to begin commenting on other blogs, The Punishment Book being my first in January 2007. That being said, even though I am technically a blogger now, my inner lurker is still in control a lot of the time.

It was really difficult for me to post my first comment. I felt like I was trying to introduce myself to the popular crowd, since I posted on a fairly well-known blog written by known bloggers. Having been a huge dork most of my life, introducing myself, especially when it involves a "coming out" of sorts into a "deviant" community (for lack of a better term) was daunting. But what I found was that the people I began commenting to and chatting with were instantly accepting of me, having gone through the same thing at some time in their pasts.

I'm still a terribly shy person. I still suffer from the strong feeling that I have absolutely nothing to contribute and that no one wants to hear what I might have to say. I'm still more of a lurker than a blogger, so I can understand what it feels like to be in your shoes, dear Lurker.

So what I'm trying to say is this. First of all, I appreciate you. For anyone who reads my posts that I am so very insecure about, I appreciate you. I would love to hear from you. If you're ready to delurk, I will welcome you with open arms. Don't be afraid. There are lots of bloggers who participate with Love Our Lurkers Day, and if my blog doesn't tickle your fancy, then I encourage you to delurk on a blog that does. Just know that you are welcome, you are wanted, and you are appreciated.

I love you lurkers!

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Lit for DDers, and those with Professor/Student Kinks

As Red has been working on improving his health, I too have been working on improving myself in a variety of ways. One of these ways, since I am not able to attend school at the time, is to catch up on the 100+ classics that have been sitting untouched on my bookshelves.

I am a student of literature, and have a particular love of Victorian literature. The fact that talk of discipline and such occasionally arises in literature from this time period is not the reason; it is a happy coincidence.

In my recent reading, I discovered a book that would likely be very enjoyable for both DDers, and playful spankos alike. I do not recall reading if another blogger has posted about this book, but if someone has already, my apologies for stepping on your post. No disrespect intended.

Anyhow, the book is The Professor, by Charlotte Bronte. It is about a gentleman named William Crimsworth, who teaches English in Belgium and falls in love with a fellow teacher, Frances Evans Henri, who becomes his pupil.

The following passages are from Chapter 25 of the novel:

"My afternoons were spent also in college, with the exception of an hour that my wife daily exacted of me for her establishment, and with which she would not dispense. She said that I must spend that time amongst her pupils to learn their characters, to be AU COURANT with everything that was passing in the house, to become interested in what interested her, to be able to give her my opinion on knotty points when she required it, and this she did constantly, never allowing my interest in the pupils to fall asleep, and never making any change of importance without my cognizance and consent. She delighted to sit by me when I gave my lessons (lessons in literature), her hands folded on her knee, the most fixedly attentive of any present. She rarely addressed me in class; when she did it was with an air of marked deference; it was her pleasure, her joy to make me still the master in all things."

While I am not the type of woman who would generally call anyone "Master," I found that Frances' continued pattern of addressing Crimsworth as "Master" even once they had clearly transitioned from a professor/student to a spousal relationship, was a thrilling detail for me.

"Talk French to me she would, and many a punishment she has had for her wilfulness. I fear the choice of chastisement must have been injudicious, for instead of correcting the fault, it seemed to encourage its renewal. Our evenings were our own; that recreation was necessary to refresh our strength for the due discharge of our duties; sometimes we spent them all in conversation, and my young Genevese, now that she was thoroughly accustomed to her English professor, now that she loved him too absolutely to fear him much, reposed in him a confidence so unlimited that topics of conversation could no more be wanting with him than subjects for communion with her own heart. In those moments, happy as a bird with its mate, she would show me what she had of vivacity, of mirth, of originality in her well-dowered nature. She would show, too, some stores of raillery, of “malice,” and would vex, tease, pique me sometimes about what she called my “bizarreries anglaises,” my “caprices insulaires,” with a wild and witty wickedness that made a perfect white demon of her while it lasted. This was rare, however, and the elfish freak was always short: sometimes when driven a little hard in the war of words—for her tongue did ample justice to the pith, the point, the delicacy of her native French, in which language she always attacked me—I used to turn upon her with my old decision, and arrest bodily the sprite that teased me. Vain idea! no sooner had I grasped hand or arm than the elf was gone; the provocative smile quenched in the expressive brown eyes, and a ray of gentle homage shone under the lids in its place. I had seized a mere vexing fairy, and found a submissive and supplicating little mortal woman in my arms. Then I made her get a book, and read English to me for an hour by way of penance."

It should be obvious to any DDer/spanko why this passage is one of my favorites in the novel.

While this novel was Bronte's first, and is not her most well-known nor most critically-acclaimed, I certainly enjoyed it. I highly recommend it.

And on a more personal note... Thank you to all who have posted supported messages and/or emailed to inquire how Red and I are doing. Red's health continues to improve, and I've been working to improve myself as well. I will be posting again soon to give a more detailed update. I have not disappeared permanently, and I appreciate those who still stop by and read my infrequent posts. I hope you are all well.