An Impossible Puzzle

Committed, in spite of the fact, or perhaps because of it – I can no longer tell – that his fingers are clasped around a beautiful, free, transforming black belt of pain and his strong right arm is moving it swiftly and with complete authority downward. Our eyes lock in the mirror as the stripe is painted diagonally across my white, white cheeks.  His are filled with wisdom. His are filled with love. Mine are filled with tears. Mine are filled with gratitude. - Anastasia, guest post (Poppy's Submissions) (11/29/11)

"My need for a spanking woke me up this morning , I do not know what that says about me other than I am built for a certain type of man."- @PoppyStVincent (Poppy St Vincent) (14 hours ago)

If you do not follow @PoppyStVincent, and read her Submissions, and tumbl(e) her Crimson and Black tumblr, you should.

The recent guest post on Poppy's Submissions made my throat constrict and my heart flutter when I read it a few days ago. I know the feelings Anastasia describes. The above tweet made the girl in me ache when I read it last night. I have thought of it, and my need to be thoroughly spanked for hours on end ever since. I text messaged my Sir this morning and told Him how I am feeling the strain, and very badly need to run away with Him and then be spanked and pushed until I scream, cry and fly.

I have been writing posts all day and now I need to be spanked and ravished. Except I have to wait until Friday. BUT I need a spanking NOW.- @PoppyStVincent (Poppy St Vincent) (23 hours ago)

I think I just wrote the rudest thing I have ever written. I need my lover and I need him now.- @PoppyStVincent (Poppy St Vincent) (14 minutes ago)

I feel need in my skin. It echoes in my voice. I want to be bratty, to have a tantrum. My body clamors to feel the red sting and to wince and squirm as I find it hard to sit. A part of my mind is working tirelessly on a puzzle -- how to give myself the sorting out I need, so I can just get back to life -- but the puzzle is impossible. There is a reason for the rule against 'self scene-ing.' We joke about it, Sir and I, because I can be a klutz and that may result in bumps and bruises of a very different kind. But the reality is no joke. The need I feel is intense, and it marks me. I am frustrated and am torqued that I cannot push myself this way:

I cannot roll up my own sleeve past my elbow, 

while myself watches, trembling from her bent over place in anticipation.

I cannot lock eyes with the girl in me, and assure her that she can be helped and freed, 

while myself shudders with relief and great big butterflies of dread dance in her tummy.

I cannot be strong and commit to the best course of action, 

when that moment of panic comes crashing in, 

and the pain is the most unbearable thing myself can imagine.

I cannot wield the strap, or the cane, or the hair-brush with love and determination, 

watching her pale cheeks pink, and redden and bruise, 

while myself muffles her cries in the bedding, or lets them echo off the walls, 

begging me to stop with her words, and not to stop with her body.

I need His strength, because I do not have it to give,

 when myself acquiesces.

And He is 251 miles away.

And His text message response reminds me that He needs -- just as I need -- that spanking.  He assures me,

"Remember our times together and draw on that. Reach out and draw from my energy with your mind and heart. It is there for you.  [Soon] we will have time and space."

For now, I will make use of my own strength.  I will write about how I need Him, how I ache and burn for Him.  I will use my words to express the awful needful, hungry feeling that pulls at my flesh and torments my mind. Then I will spend some time imagining the last time He spanked me and pushed me.

The last time I flew.

Finally, I will find my strength in His energy, and I will get dressed and go do some adult things -- like paying bills, or Christmas shopping, I will not have a bratty tantrum when it won't get me the spanking I need.

Soon.

Out of Sorts and Sorting Out

I did not post a journal entry last night.  The truth is that I forgot about it completely.  I honestly have no excuse.

And that's okay. Here's why:

Sometimes a girl needs to be reminded that someone is watching, that someone cares enough to notice when she misses a deadline or crosses a boundary.  Come closer, so I can whisper a secret.  Sometimes a girl will purposely, or unconsciously cross such a line because somewhere inside her, there's a little girl who just needs to be told off and sorted out.  She needs to know her boundaries and her value have not changed.

I watched it all day yesterday with my grandson.  Things were hectic. Everyone was busy and he could sense it.  So he pushed.  He needed each of us in turn to assure him that he was secure, that the boundaries were still in place.

Babies do this intuitively.

For me, two very small, inconsequential things happened yesterday.  First, Shepherd texted me and said that our call on Tuesday might be squeezed by a very busy week that is outside the normal routine.  He is in "the country" all week, celebrating Thanksgiving with Shepherdess. It is just where he should be.

You know what? I can tell I've grown. I responded by telling him I understand.  It is that time of year. Now, I would much rather talk to him, but he knows that; and being grateful for every phone date can really change a girl's attitude.

The other thing that happened yesterday involves the fact that Husband is off in the woods this weekend, camping and hunting. We have been talking recently about text messages. We each send little notes to others we don't see every day, just to say "I'm thinking about you and I miss you." We agree that though we see each other nearly every day, it's nice to send the occasional note. Additionally, when we are apart, like we are this weekend, we always try to send each other a good night and good morning text.

I realize that he is in a remote area. I've camped there before. But there are several places in camp where you can get signal. He managed to text me to say they had arrived, and again yesterday evening to say they hadn't seen any deer.

No good night before bed and no good morning.

I find myself wondering if he has been in touch with anyone else he misses.

I will get over that. It's a very small thing. But I wonder whether the girl in me is feeling a little out of sorts, like my grandbaby -- just needing reassurance and sorting out.

Several months ago I recognized that I needed some boundaries that might seem childish.  I know that Husband and Shepherd get busy and they both do a great deal to express their love for me.

So, being poly and resourceful, I enlisted the help of a fellow writer and dear friend who was perfectly willing to ask me every day whether I have written in my journal, or done my affirmations, or scheduled time to myself.

He is very diligent to enforce those boundaries and provide consequences that make me feel noticed and secure.

So, today, when he realizes I didn't post a journal entry, I won't even balk at the consequences...

...too much.