Noisy Sub Brain & Dom Voice
I woke up with a chaotic brain, like it was full of static. My mind was spinning in too many directions at once. Seeing how much I had to do should have made me jump right in, but it was making me want to avoid it instead. I had breakfast and screwed around a little before finally getting going a little bit. I had maybe a paragraph of an email completed after several minutes but it was progress. Then @cynicaldom called me from the bedroom. I sighed.Â
I like our morning routine, I just was frustrated to be interrupted. I walked into the bedroom and within a few moments had forgotten about being disrupted. I massaged his legs, we cuddled and talked a little bit. I was being playful and giggling. I was horny. He invited my hand into his pants and I got a little excited before he pulled his shorts back up. He as just teasing me. This frustrated me a bit but I tried to hide it. We talked and cuddled more. More silliness. He got up to get dressed and I started to leave the bedroom but he grabbed me and pulled me back toward the side of the bed. I whimpered a little to wordlessly express that I wasnât particularly in the mood for a spanking. He turned me over his knee anyway. Using just his hand, he laid into me hard but slow, which is rare for us. When he uses his hand this way itâs always a powerful reminder of how much of an impact just his can make. The spanking is harder than I expected for âjust becauseâ spanking. It doesnât take long before I notice my breathing changing, Iâm almost in tears. Our play never brings me to tears unless weâre doing it for sadistic reasons, and I can tell he isnât in that kind of a mood. I know he isnât just playing but Iâm also not in trouble. I decide that maybe he thought I needed more intensity as more of a role-reminder. I accept this made-up answer in my mind so I donât bother to actually ask.Â
He lets me up and he goes about getting dressed. My mind and emotions are still silly and messy. I hide behind a small table and pop out at him when he comes out of the bedroom. He laughs genuinely, but grabs ahold of me and brings me back to the bedroom. âSomething tells me you need more.â he says.Â
I pout. I donât want more and I donât know why he thinks I need more. I didnât enjoy the spanking I already got. I know he knows I was just playing, Itâs very clear to me that I am not in trouble, but I donât understand why he thinks I need it and it irritates me. He stands me between his knees and leans forward to grab a paddle this time.Â
âNoooâŚâ I whine and take a step away from him. Not trying to revoke consent, just expressing my displeasure even though Iâm certain he knows Iâm not finding this fun. Still seated on the bed, his eyes are at the same height as mine. He looks me straight in the eye âStop.â he says with his voice quieter than a usual speaking voice, a hint deeper, with the tone hardened. This is his Dom Voiceâ˘. One word and the change in tone tell me everything I need to know. While he was playing along before, he is not playing anymore. Heâs tired of my semi-playful and semi-bratty sass. The attitude, the wanting my own way, the desire to struggle all melt out of me in response to that tone. When I read about domestic discipline before we lived it, I always imagined that âthe tone⢠â or âthe voice⢠â being an increase in volume. Maybe not truly yelling, but louder than usual. CD has never been one to raise his voice frequently in general, but even less with me. He doesnât raise his voice at me when heâs setting a boundary for me. He doesnât need to. I can hear the unhappiness and seriousness in his tone when he just says âstop.â and that is enough to correct my course.Â
He pulls me back into place between his legs and removes my bottoms and pulls me over his lap. He brings me to tears with the paddle. I twist my arm over my back, offering it to him so he can hold it for me without struggle. Once I break into solid tears he holds a steady pace for a while and I keep crying. He stops and rubs my butt as I lay over his lap and I keep crying for a bit.Â
I think I could count on one hand how many times Iâve cried from a spanking that wasnât for punishment. We play with a little sadomashochism, but we just arenât very intense. I donât typically need help to cry, and I am not one to seek pain when Iâve had a bad day. He doesnât get pleasure out of making me cry. So this was a little unique for us. Yet in the moment, I had stopped questioning why we were doing this. When we were done cuddling I went back to working and jumped in, no struggle in focusing, being more productive now. Part way through responding to a stressful work email I had been putting off, âI feel so calmâŚâ I say aloud more to myself than anything but he hears. âWell, yeah. Thatâs why I did it.â he says. Itâs only then that I fully get it. This is what he meant by I need it. I didnât need a role reminder. I needed calming, I needed to be brought back down, to untangle the static in my brain, to focus.Â
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kianamaiart
romaincrisis
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
