Sunday, August 06, 2006

Protection, Nurturing, and Love

Ice_Princess said...

Hey Gaelin,
When are you coming back? On this topic by the way my new daddy says that a woman wants to be protected, nurtured and loved and that it's the man's job to provide that, and then he said when a woman gets that from the man she wants then everything is anyway where are you?

Has it really been so long since I've last written? May 18th does seem a world away, doesn't it? I apologize for being gone so long; my wife is out of town and has been for several weeks (on a business-related trip) and so my muse is missing. Alas, what am I to write about with no naughty girl forgetting her phone every other day? Thanks to Ice Princess for providing me with something else to write about.

I understand what your Daddy means by women wanting to be protected, nurtured and loved. However I don't believe that feeling is necessarily innate. In fact, I think that rather, it is more an inborn trait of women to provide protection, nurturing and love (to their children), where it is perhaps less likely that men will possess these traits without cultivating them.

All in all, I don't think it's possible to boil a gender down to three basic needs, and assume that fulfilling these needs will result in a happy union. The needs you mentioned are definitely characteristics I would expect to find in a successful coupling but I'm not so convinced they are "female" needs nor that it is a "male" responsibility to meet them. I think these needs are common to both sexes and that both partners will need to provide these basics to each other consistently to keep a relationship functional.

For example, I agree that Anna wants these things from me, and I do my best to provide them for her with as much dependability as is possible, but I don't think she has the market cornered in needing these things. As her husband, I want these same things from her in turn. Love, of course, but even nurturing and protection in different ways. I don't want her to don a suit of armour and slay villians on my behalf, but she does protect and nurture me in her own ways.

She does massage my shoulders after I've been at the computer screen all day, and she does, even, protect me from situations I don't like being in by managing people and social scenes to keep me from having to talk to people she knows I don't want to talk to, or get into discussions she knows I don't want to have. This kind of protection isn't about killing lions (but neither is mine for her). Instead it is about emotional protection, helping each other to be "emotionally safe" wherever possible.

So yes, Ice_Princess, I agree that women need these things and that men must provide them, but I don't believe that is a one-way street in the least. The thing about ageplay and BDSM is that it tends to look as though the "top" or "Daddy" is doing all the providing, but it isn't, in my experience, like that at all. Although the obvious nurturing flows in one direction, there are always more subtle things going on that aren't so easily seen or even described. There are many types of protection and nurturing and love!

It does sound as if your new Daddy has good intentions in wanting to fulfill your needs for these things and I do hope that you find the relationship rewarding.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Why Feminism and Ageplay are Compatible

Quoth Annalove:
As I grew older I became ashamed of this desire because it fit so poorly with everything I had been taught and believed about women's rights and equality and feminism and so forth. I hated the idea of being controlled by a man at the same time as I longed for it. I wrote off my own secret interests as something weird about me and didn't pursue them other than through imaginings.

Feminism is defined as: the movement toward the full social, political and economic equality of all people.

I support feminism. How could I not? Equality is a given. All people deserve the same rights, supports, and opportunities without discrimination by race, religion, sex, age, etcetera etcetera.

This is where we get hung up. Equal doesn't mean the same. Say it again, with me: EQUAL DOESN'T MEAN THE SAME.

Men are not the same as women. Women are not the same as children. Christians are not the same as Muslims. Asians are not the same as Austrians. All equal, all different.

Equality means all these people should have the same right to decide their own destiny. Everyone should have the opportunity for education, employment, housing, medical care, and so on. And everyone should be free to decide how to live their life, given that their choices harm no one else.

In this way, I support Anna's right, and the right of all women, to decide to live in a relationship in which the man is dominant. By the same token, I support a man's right to choose a dominant wife if that pleases him. I support the right of all people to make their own decisions about what they need.

A Saudi women where I work said to me the other day, "People think Muslim women are abused because we cover our hair and bodies. I think non-Muslim women are abused because they are targeted by advertisers to feel insecure about their hair and bodies." I am sure a truer word was never spoken. We must support the rights of Muslim women to choose to cover themselves the same way we must support the rights of non-Muslim women not to.

In suggesting it is unfeminist of Anna and women like her to accept a dominant male figure in her life, it is suggesting that Anna is incapable of making a competent decision for herself. How unfeminist is that, I ask you? As a woman, as my equal, Anna is just as entitled to decide what she wants as anyone else. Being submissive and being my little girl is entirely her choice.

Anna and I have always had an agreement that we can discuss any rule or any punishment she does not agree with and that I will always listen to her and work to accommodate her needs. The only caveat is that we do not discuss a punishment that is pending or in progress as rationality tends to be abandoned during these periods of high emotion.

For example, early in our relationship, I used to sometimes hold onto Anna's hair to lift her head to look at me. I never pulled it hard, but she explained to me that it was something that hurt her, emotionally, because it reminded her of her abuser. Of course I never did it again.

Likewise, we have had discussions about rules and I have changed rules at times when it made sense to do so. Another example is that when Anna has finished working on a particular theatre project, there is often a cast party. On that night of celebration, curfews are always extended because participating in this celebration is important to her and her colleagues.

Another example of Anna being free to discuss things with me was with regard to her fear of the cane. Her wish to avoid this implement was something I respected and never forced her to change. (I admit I did my best to tempt her to change her mind, however!)

Feminism and ageplay are completely compatible. As long as everyone involved is safe and content, feminism is not threatened in any way.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006


sugarpunk said...

i have to wonder.. is this more common in women that did NOT have the daddys girl syndrome and longed for it?.. i mean i had a father at home.. but he wasnt at all the dominate parent ... he didnt really interact too much at all with the kids...

Fascinating question, sugarpunk. Of course I should allow Anna to reply to this herself, and I certainly will suggest she take part in this conversation, but currently she is sleeping as it is horrendously early here. (I tend to be an early riser.)

There seem to be a lot of factors at play in what creates an interest in ageplay, BDSM, spanking, D/s etc. and to pinpoint exactly what causes this desire is difficult. Of course I am not a psychologist and my expertise is limited to my own experiences with my wife and the few people we correspond with online (which frankly isn't many). So what I offer you is my thoughts and opinions based on experience but certainly not an all-encompassing view.

In Anna's case, her relationship with her father was pleasant but as you said of your own, he was not a dominating figure in her life. Her mother was at the helm of the ship, so to speak, and the family followed her rules. I believe Anna's lack of a strongly influential male role model contributed to her need for this later in life.

In addition to this, Anna experienced some abuse in her childhood which I won't detail here but I am certain she won't mind me discussing it with you privately (or may do so herself if she wishes), and this also seems to have added to her ageplay needs. There are many hungers in her that are insatiable for lack of a better word. For example, I cannot possibly tell her often enough that she is a good girl, that I adore her, that she is pretty, that she is the most important person in the world to me; I cannot ever tell her these things enough for her to fully accept them. This derives, I am certain, from being told and shown the opposite by the people who were meant to love her as a child.

And so, my job as her Daddy/Husband is to do all I can do to make her hear that message, as often and as consistently as I possibly can.

In all honesty that isn't an easy task. Anna is a terribly independant woman. She left home very young and began travelling the world (she is Canadian-born) in search of her happiness while she was at an age most young people still live with their parents and receive support from them, both financial and emotional. She struck out on her own in large part due to her own stubborn and independant nature and of course this nature was developed in response to what she believed she needed to be in order to survive in the world. I daresay this strength of will served her well at this point in her life.

However, when first we met, she didn't show much sign of weakness or of needing and wanting a Daddy. I tested her early on, shortly after we met, giving her a cheeky swat on the bottom to see how she would respond. It was a look in her eye that gave her away when I did that and I knew there was something more to be found, a child inside the woman who could be mine if I could teach her to trust me. It certainly wasn't easy.

It isn't easy now, either, all these years later. I believe the nature of the child inside does not allow that part of her to heal, the same way it did not allow that part of her to grow up. There is a childhood wound that I tend to every day of our marriage, with every gentle touch, with every direction I give, with every rule I make and enforce. All these actions are aimed at providing the child inside with security and stability and comfort. When the child is happiest, my wife is happiest as well. She is cheerful, agreeable and easygoing. When the child starts to feel doubts - and it is inevitable, I have learned that she will - my wife becomes more saucy and disagreeable. These signs inform me that she needs more tending, whether that be gentle loving attentions to the girl, or perhaps a session across my knee. Either way, her mood turns quickly back after I have reminded her that she is my girl.

One of the most difficult aspects of this type of ageplay relationship is that it works in a circular manner. The goal, of course, of a Daddy, is to make the child feel completely safe and adored. It did become frustrating to me in the beginning to learn that I could never fully convince her that her childlike side is completely cherished. After a period of being very close, the child invariably slowly starts to slip back to believing she is worthless. It used to make me feel I was a failure as a Daddy that I could never completely heal that child inside her. Over time, and through my own sometimes-awkward learning curve, I have discovered that this is simply the nature of the child. If the child could actually be completely healed, my wife (and all submissive women) would lose interest in this lifestyle as soon as they found a successful relationship. Of course it does not work that way and it is a bittersweet reality that I (Daddys) act as First Aiders, applying bandages and tending to the needs as they arise, but never being able to completely cure the disease.

I use the word disease very lightly, please note, for this interest is not something I view as a liability or frailty. Rather, I find it a lovely and beauteous miracle to find an adult woman with whom I can have an adult relationship who also, simultaneously, encapsulates the spirit of a wee child, innocent and sweet and longing for love and approval. I am incredibly fortunate to share my life with both sides of this person.

The first childhood leaves indelible prints on a child. Ageplay is a way we seek to make peace with the past. What you described, sugarpunk, seems to be a common thread with the women-children I have known. Sadly, I believe that abuse and/or neglect often lie at the root of this need as well. It is the more intelligent and resourceful women who learn to develop a strong adult shell who can be independant and successful while still preserving at their core, the innocent and sweet child who may have a second chance at being parented in another second childhood.

In Anna, the need for discipline is powerful. She often says she "doesn't want it, but needs it" and this is an extremely honest and accurate reflection on her need. Anna's need for consistent and predictable discipline comes from her childhood when discipline was erratic and unreasonable and unpredictable. While I know she does not enjoy the pain a spanking causes to her bottom, it simultaneously assures her heart over and over again that she will be held accountable for her actions by someone who adores her enough to pay attention all the time. Likewise, it proves to her that her discipline from me will always be safe and reasonable and will always be a direct result of her own decisions and behaviour. That is, in spite of submission, paradoxically, she has complete control over her own punishments and discipline because she knows the rules and she knows exactly what the consequences are for breaking them.

Anna's need for approval is also childlike. While she succeeds brilliantly in the workaday world, taking critcism and daily difficulties in stride, she needs my approval. She needs my approval because my approval goes directly to the child inside, a hungry child that longs for the love of her Daddy.

I congratulate you on discovering your need, sugarpunk - a complex and emotionally deep need that will inevitably cause both heartbreak and joy in the extreme. I hope the joys are the majority.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Pants on Fire, Indeed.

In my last post I mentioned an ongoing frustration with Anna forgetting her cell phone. Keeping her cell phone with her and turned on is one of her rules as it enables me to get in touch with her easily and whenever I wish to. And of course, I wish to. Part of Daddying, from my perspective, is about keeping tabs on my girl even when we must be apart. I like to phone her periodically throughout the day to check on her and find out how her day is going. As well, she is expected to phone me to ask permission when she wishes to do things that are outside her normal daily routine. Most of all, I want to know she can always call me for help if she needs me, should (heaven forbid) anything happen that resulted in her needing some assistance. In all cases, the phone is a vital link.

The second part of my concern, in that last post, was that when I questioned her about why she was not using her cell phone, she told me it was in her bag in another room. Later, when I tried to phone her, I heard that same phone ringing in her jacket pocket in our house. Of course this led me to wonder if I was being fibbed to.

Anna found herself in hot water when she arrived home.

She came in the door smiling and kissed me hello but I'm sure she could sense immediately that something was wrong as the smile faded from her lips quickly and she sat down in the kitchen chair I pulled out for her.

"How was your afternoon?" I asked her.

"Fine. Umm... Daddy? What's wrong?"

She was already blushing, an automatic physical reaction that starts when she anticipates trouble, even before knowing why.

"Anna," I asked her severely, "Do you have something you would like to tell me about your cell phone?" I was fishing to see if she knew where it was and had lied to me, or if she still thought it was in her bag.

The blush deepened and she stared at the table top and whispered, "I don't know where it is."

"Why did you tell me it was in your bag when I asked you?" I was disappointed by this, of course. Honesty is fundamental in any relationship, and it is an infraction I take extremely seriously. I had actually rather hoped she had lied accidentally.

She looked up at me in alarm then, knowing what I was getting at. "I didn't lie to you!" she said quickly. "I really thought it
was in the bag when we spoke. I went to find it afterward, like you told me to, and that's when I realised it was missing."

"I see."

I thought about that a minute. I don't mind long silences and if I need to mull something over, I think it doesn't hurt her one bit to wait while I think. It wasn't as bad as I feared, that is, she hadn't told me an intentional lie. Still, there was some dishonesty attached to the situation that I found troublesome. We have talked often of the importance of telling me things she knows I would want to know, even when I haven't directly asked her. I call this a "lie of omission",
a lie which has everything to do with leaving out relevant and important information on purpose.

"Anna." She looked up at me. "You didn't call me after you noticed the phone was missing."

She shook her head no and looked back down at the table.

"Do you think that was something I would have wanted to know?"

She nodded.

"Look at me please, Anna."

She raised her head.

"Why didn't you tell me, Anna?"

Her eyes welled up and she said, "Because I didn't want to get in trouble."

And there it was. The truth. It wasn't as bad as lying, but it was still dishonesty. It was still deliberately allowing me to continue believing something she knew to be untrue. I sent her to the bedroom.

I was disappointed in her and I was annoyed. It is for that very reason I decided to let her wait in the bedroom while I decided what to do, for I don't believe in administering punishment while I am angry. It is essential for punishment to be thoughtful and delivered in a loving frame of mind so that it may be firm but fair and always reasonable no matter how strict. I knew I intended the punishment to be serious for I take lying very seriously, even when the lie is one of omission rather than a direct lie.

I sat down to think awhile and meanwhile she was silent upstairs. I heard her feet going quietly down the corridor to the bedroom and then nothing. Not a sound. Undoubtedly she was worried, and in all truth I wanted her to be. I counted, mentally, the number of times we had discussed the cell phone and how many times she had been punished for forgetting it or leaving it turned off.

I watched evening news and went mentally through various implements and situations in my mind. It must have been more than an hour before I determined my plan and went upstairs.

I found her lying on the bed curled up in a ball and crying.

"Anna, stand up and come and talk to me."

She obeyed quickly and stood before me looking tearstained and bedraggled. She's clearly already punished herself quite thoroughly in her mind. I sat on the spanking chair and held her hands in mine.

"You know I love you, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Do you understand why I am upset with you?"

She nodded again.

"Anna, I am going to need you to use your words," I told her. "Why am I upset with you today?"

"Because I didn't tell you the truth about my phone."

"What should you have done when you noticed the phone wasn't where you thought it was?"

"Phoned you again from the work phone and told you." Her eyes went to the floor again.

"Anna. Look at me. Why is it important for you to have your phone with you?"

"So you know that I'm safe." The tears started again.

"And why is it important that I know you're safe?"

"Because... you love me."

"That's exactly right," I told her, "because I adore you and you are the most important person in my life." She nodded and I continued to hold her hands. "Now Anna," I said sternly, "How many times have we talked about the importance of you keeping your phone with you?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"I want you to try and remember."

"Maybe... umm... five?"

I looked at her closely to see if she believed what she was telling me. She did.

"No, Anna," I told her. "You have been punished for forgetting your phone
twelve times." Her eyes widened. "I'm not kidding," I told her, hardly believing it myself. Clearly I haven't treated this situation seriously enough in the past.

"And how many times do you think you have been punished for lying to me?" I asked her.

"I didn't lie..." she started to protest.

"Anna. Stop. You know just as well as I do that a lie of omission is nearly the same." She stopped short and blushed a deeper red and nodded. "And how many times have I punished you for lying?"

She shook her head sadly. "I think three."

"That's exactly right. Three. You seem to remember those punishments more clearly." I watched the blush travel down her neck. She remembered them because they were much harsher punishments, I expect.

"What do you suppose I am going to do with you tonight, Anna?"

"Punish me." She whispered this, not meeting my eyes again.

I squelched a laugh. Obviously. "And how do you supposed I am planning to punish you tonight, Anna?"

"You're going to give me a spanking?" she half-asked, half-stated, so quietly I could barely hear her.

"Come here Anna." Saying this was more a formality than anything, for she was already very close, but I wanted her to understand that the time was now. I unbuttoned the top button of her blue jeans and the rest of the buttons on the fly slowly. I pulled the pants down, right down to the floor and instructed her to step out of them. Then I took her arm and pulled her across my lap. She went without any resistance as is required. She was already crying and I find this difficult, at times, to administer discipline to her when she is already so very upset. I had to take a moment, myself, to get clear in my mind and then I took the top of her panties in my hands and peeled them down slowly.

I took her hairbrush in my right hand. "Anna," I said, tapping her on the bottom, "You are not going to forget your phone anymore. You have had more chances to remember it than I can believe. From now on you are going to check if you have it with you
every time you leave the house. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." Her words were choked sounded but I did not let that stop me from delivering a volley of hard spanks to her bare cheeks and she tensed up in my lap.

"Anna, stop that right now." I gave her a moment and helped her to shift to a better position. "Relax. Take a deep breath." She took a deep shuddery breath and yet her body remained tight. "Another one." Again a deep breath and then a little less tension in her back. "Anna, tensing up like this is only going to make it hurt more," I told her, which is true and she tried again to relax. I pushed against her back to make her to lean over a little more, forcing her to unclench her bottom a bit and picked up the hairbrush again.

I must admit I spanked her harder than usual and for longer. Usually I will give her ten swats followed by some talking-time, and then ten more. However, this time I wanted the spanking to crate a greater sense of fear and panic in her than normal. I gave her twenty hard smacks on her bare bottom cheeks, alternating sides and covering her entire bottom with each round. After twenty smacks I held her in place firmly with her hands behind her back and talked to her. "Anna, listen to me. Right now." She stopped straining against my hands and listened. "Anna, I know it hurts. Listen. You have forgotten your phone so often that I am starting to think you aren't taking your rules very seriously. Do you want me to think that?"

"Noooo...." she was crying.

"Good," I told her. "I am going to make sure you remember this rule from now on and I want you to remember how your bottom feels right now every time you walk out the door so that you will check for that phone each and every time you leave the house. Do you hear me?"

"Yes sir."

I spanked her again, harder, this time thirty hard and fast swats and she twisted in my lap and screamed and cried harder and harder. Spankings have a building force, of course, and when you spank the same spot twice it more than doubles the effect. When you spank the same spot many times, the effect is extraordinarily powerful. She writhed as much as she could, but I held her arms tightly and spanked her harder when she tried to get away.

There is a moment in a spanking when the tension and the fight leaves her body and she stops trying to get away. Instead she starts to
absorb the spanking and it is at that point that the real lesson-learning takes place. Usually it is not necessary to spank for long after that point, just one more round, but this time I decided to go further and made that last round the most punishing one yet. I spanked her hard and briskly, another thirty swats and she sobbed. I followed that with ten hard, slow, full force swats. Each of these was punctuated with my words. YOU. WILL. REMEMBER. TO. BRING. YOUR. PHONE. WITH. YOU. ANNA.

By this point she was breathless and almost inaudible in her crying. Her bottom was vividly red and I knew it would most certainly be bruised by morning. It is rare that I spank her hard or long enough to bruise her but there was no doubt in my mind that it was necessary this time to impart the importance of a lesson she has been stubbornly resistant to learning.

She cried a long time over my knee, her red bottom quivering in my lap and I rubbed her back and told her that I love her. The only reason, Anna, that I care if you have that phone with you is that I love you.

The crying slowed and she sat up, climbing into my lap and resting her head on my shoulder. I rocked her gently in my arms and waited for the crying to stop completely.

Finally she started to breathe evenly again and I kissed her cheek and stroked her hair back from her face. I could see she was sleepy now and ready to be tucked into bed.

"Anna, sweetie, look at me please."

Sleepy eyes raised up to look at my face. She looked so peaceful and sweet that I almost changed my mind about what was to follow. And yet, I felt it was important to impart the second lesson and important to impart it
now while her bottom was still red and smarting and while she was in this submissive frame of mind.

"We're not done with your punishment, sweetie," I said, and her eyes flew open, suddenly wide awake.

"We... we're not?" she asked me in trembly voice.

"No honey, we've only talked about forgetting your phone. There's still something else we need to discuss."

She squirmed on my lap, suddenly uncomfortable sitting on her sore red bottom and I allowed her to stand up. She reached to down for her panties that were resting near her ankles. I reached out a hand to stop her. "Oh no, honey, don't do that. Come here please." I took her by the hand and she took tiny steps across the room to the bed.

I piled up the pillows in the centre of the bed and had her lie on her stomach across them with her bottom lifted high up in the air. I do love her in that position, with her back arched and her bottom up high, cheeks slightly parted by the upward thrust. She began to blush all over again and I helped her into position. "Don't move from that position, Anna. We have a second conversation we need to have."

She took some deep breaths and I slipped into the WC to fill up her enema bag, this time with cool water. Cool water is better for punishment as it causes more discomfort, and I wanted her to feel discomfort while we talked about her telling the truth. I filled it up quite full, unlike I do for medical purposes when I only fill it halfway.

I brought it back to her in the bedroom and then reached for the lubricant. We have two kinds. The one I use for medicals is a simple clear lotion. For punishment, I use Bengay. This has the practical effect of creating a slippery surface with the added benefit of a burning sensation that focuses a little one's attention very sharply on the area being tended to. I lubricated her bottom with Bengay and added a little more to the tip of the enema nozzle, then inserted it gently in her bottom. She took some deep breaths and I watched as her cheeks began to tense up almost immediately sensing the burning of the Bengay.

"You are going to take the whole bag tonight, Anna," I told her and she nodded and took another shivery breath and looked stoic. It was hard not to laugh.

I clicked the nozzle to a very slow drip and then sat back to watch. "Don't move," I told her sternly as she started to wiggle a little. "Anna, you were very naughty today. You know better than to keep secrets from me and I am disappointed in you for being dishonest with me."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"I know you are,"I told her, "and I know you were just afraid of getting into trouble with me. But Anna, by not being honest with me right away, you got yourself into much worse trouble than you would have otherwise. Do you understand that? If you had told me the truth you would be finished with your punishment by now."

"Yes sir."

I watched the bag slowly flatten and watched her red bottom clenching and unclenching around the hose, trying to control her natural reactions to the Bengay and to the water that was filling her. She started to moan softly as she grew fuller. "Don't move," I told her. During a punishment enema she is not allowed to shift positions.

Her moaning grew more urgent as the bag emptied and I told her again to hold still. "I can't, owww..." she said.

"Anna, you can and you will hold still until I tell you."

I watched her bottom cheeks seeing them tighten and relax over and over again. There is precious little that is a prettier sight that watching that beautiful round bottom, freshly spanked, going through those motions. Her moaning grew more urgent.

"Anna, I'm going to put your plug in because you are going to be holding that water for awhile," I told her and she started to cry afresh, more I believe from anticipation than from pain. I took her widest bottom plug out of the drawer and coated it with Bengay. I parted her cheeks gently and then more insistently, pushing the plug in deeply and firmly. She cried more but did not resist. She knows that resisting this makes it more painful.

"Now," I said, "While you hold that enema, I want you to come up with a list of fifteen reasons why you should never be dishonest with me."

She started out quickly with the most obvious reasons, rushing to try and get her freedom as soon as possible. "Because you need to be able to trust me. Because it isn't right to be dishonest. Because I want you to be honest with me too. Because...." The reasons came more slowly as she used them up and I waited and watched, taking pleasure in telling her so when she was repeating herself and having her rethink the ones that weren't new ideas. It took about ten minutes, which is almost exactly how long I wanted it to take. Ten minutes holding a full bag of cool water isn't easy and I didn't want it to be easy for her. I wanted her to be uncomfortable and she clearly was.

"Can I go now, Daddy, please?" she asked me.


"No?" She looked back at me over her shoulder, her eyes filled with pleading.

"No, Annalove, you still have another spanking coming for lying to me."

At that she started to sob. She was so sure she was finished and again, I almost lost my resolve to make this punishment one to never be forgotten. A spanking on top of a spanking is a serious punishment and she was shocked to hear that I was going to spank her again, particularly as she was suffering waiting for her enema to be over.

I pulled my belt out through its loops and her body went completely rigid. I decided not to make her wait too long. I doubled the belt over carefully to avoid the wrap-around effect and delivered the first lick right across the centre of her already-bright-red bottom. She shrieked and bucked.

"Anna, settle down," I told her this sternly, though I sympathized, knowing she was near her limit where she would soon not be able to obey me any longer. In this case I wanted to push her very close to that limit so she would understand the severity with which I was viewing her behaviour, particularly in being dishonest with me.

She was bawling already and I had only given her one lick. I took stock and altered my plan. I'd planned on twenty licks, and based on her reaction I decided to half that. I also did something I rarely do, which was to tell Anna how many spanks she was going to receive. I usually do not do this
specifically because I don't want her to know when it will end, adding to her sense of lack of control, but I could see she was close to hysteria and I wanted to pull her back a little.

"Take a deep breath, Anna," I told her sternly, and placed a steadying hand across her back. She breathed and settled a little. "Now you are going to have ten spanks with my belt for lying to me today, Anna, and I want you to settle down and accept them like a good girl."

She took another deep breath. "Anna. Do you deserve another spanking for lying to me?" I asked her this seriously, wondering how she would answer, unsure she could see my rationale at this point in her state of panic.

There was a pause and then she said, "Yes."

Yes. I was relieved that she understood and sanctioned, tacitly, what I was doing, though I believe I would have continued without her agreement.

"Yes, Anna, that's right, you do. You must never lie to me again."

With that, I stood back and delivered the next belt stroke. Again, she screamed and bucked but settled back onto the pillows. She buried her face and sobbed into the mattress and I aimed carefully and spanked her again and again, until we reached seven.

The eighth and ninth lick fell in quick succession across the tender backs of her thighs and she let out a howl that made the walls tremble. "Anna," I told her, taking careful aim for the last stroke to land squarely across the sweet spot at the delicate curve of her pretty bottom cheeks, "You are never going to lie to me again. Is that clear?"

I could barely hear her words between the sobs, "Yes sir," but when I was certain she had answered, I let the last spank bite that brilliantly red bottom and then dropped the belt and went to her quickly. She was shaking and crying and redfaced and cold and perspiring all at once, and I took her bottom plug between my fingers and tugged it out firmly but gently and gave her permission to go to release the water. She scuttled away tearfully.

When she finally returned to the bedroom she was still breathing shakily and seemed unsteady on her feet. I gathered her in my arms and carried her to the bed. I removed the rest of her clothing and diapered her then, applying lotion to her sore red bottom and then covering it in soft folds of cotton for the night. I tucked her into bed and then rested beside her on top of the blankets, stroking her hair and kissing her face. Her eyelashes fluttered and I decided she should have her pacifier for the night, so I got it from the bedside drawer and guided it into her mouth. She sighed peacefully.



"I love you, sweetie," I told her. "And I'm proud of you for taking your punishment so bravely."

"I love you too Daddy," she said against my chest and snuggled into me. I held her like that for a long time while she slept.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Again the Cell Phone

My most recent post referred to two weekends ago, and therefore I must credit the little one with having behaved herself quite well for the a nice long stint of time. It pleases her and it pleases me when she is able to follow her rules and keep out of trouble, and yet there is pleasure in punishing her and I know she experiences a type of pleasure from it too, though perhaps that pleasure happens later, afterward rather than during.

The truth is that I am proud of her when she behaves well, but I also do enjoy the opportunity to correct her and treasure the trust she has placed in me to do so.

Today I am displeased, however. This afternoon Anna phoned me from work and I noticed when I answered that the call display gave the name of her theatre company, indicating that she was calling me from a work phone rather than her cell phone. I asked her why and she said the phone was in her bag and that it was easier to use the work phone because she was already near it.

Anna has an important rule about keeping her cell phone with her so that she can be reached when necessary, and this is a rule she sometimes has trouble remembering, disorganized little soul that she is. Regardless, I only scolded her mildly and reminded her that I expected her to keep the phone with her.

Just now I phoned her and she did not answer. This, in and of itself, is a problem. However, the problem was exacerbated quickly by the fact that I noticed within a few seconds that her cell phone was ringing in her jacket pocket, a jacket which is currently hanging in the front door closet.

This means one of two things: either Anna thinks her phone is with her and has not noticed she forgot it at home, OR, Anna has lied to me about the whereabouts of her phone to avoid punishment.

We will, of course, discuss this tonight when she arrives home and I cannot foresee a happy ending for her in either case. For her sake, readers, please hope that she has made an error of disorganization which will earn her the lesser of two punishments. If she has intentionally misled me she will be in serious trouble.

Either way, Anna can expect a spanking tonight. If she has made a mistake she will receive a pretty big spanking for forgetting her phone, a rule she has forgotten far too many times. However, if she has intentionally lied to me, she will receive a much more severe spanking and there will be other aspects to her punishment. I will think on this more after our discussion. Meanwhile I will take the next half hour before she arrives to ensure I am calm and prepared to deliver a punishment that is fair but thorough.

I will update shortly.

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Tsk tsk...

Tsk tsk, Anna has left you hanging. I shall finish her story.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Checking up, Checking in

She likes to take freelance writing and editing jobs to keep her busy when the theatre is dark. The latest one has kept her much busier than I like her to be because it means she is sometimes working at her computer in the evenings when I would much prefer her to be sitting on my lap.

It becomes important, when the little one is largely engaged with adult work and adult activities, to take some time time to focus attention on her little side and ensure the little girl is attended and tended to. Wednesday night I checked in with the wee one.

She has trouble with these, much as the entire experience of living an ageplay lifestyle is troublesome in a multitude of ways. Experience, however, tells me the rewards of remaining steadfast even when it is difficult are more than worth the troubled times. This is why I insist even when she initially resists my attentions. She has always, without fail, told me later that she appreciates and needs these attentions even when she simultaneously feels she does not want them.

On Wednesday night it was time for some attention to her body, to her health. Of course, I am not a doctor and so my checks are more for affect than for effective purpose. The reason to subject her to the checks is the intentional stripping away of privacy and boundaries, to remind her that I am attentive to her in every way and that she is required to let me do these things even when they make her feel uncomfortable and embarrassed.

After dinner she went to her computer to begin work, and I allowed her an hour to work while I decided what the evening's checks would involve. When I was ready I told her to go to the bedroom. She was quick to obey; she knew what was on the agenda for the evening and knew that disobedience was not a good idea.

She went quickly. In the bedroom, I undressed her completely. I am always astounded by the power clothing has to build or diminish authority. When both people are undressed together, there is an equality, a meshing of status, even if one considers himself to be the "Top". When she is undressed by me, and stands before me naked, she is instantly more vulnerable, smaller and timid as I stand before her fully clothed. In the entire time I have known her, though she occasionally possesses a smart mouth, she has never once, not even one time, uttered a saucy word while in a state of undress. Imagine.

She is shy when she is undressed this way, shy when I have her stand before me and look at her body. She looks down when I look at her face. She whispers in reply when I speak to her. She has a beautiful body, perfectly formed for all the terrible things I want to do to her. She is a small girl, easily lifted, easily carried. I picked her up and carried her to the bed and had her lie on her back.

Careful checks. Everywhere, from top to bottom. I start with her face, her mouth, her ears. Looking and touching gently. I like to look at her eyes, watch the nervousness, the anticipation, the blush and the love.

I touch her breasts, gently, starting at the outside perimeter and working my way around in small circles, moving inward slowly to the nipple. I pinch the nipple gently first, listen her intake of breath, and pinch a little harder, watching her eyes.

Her shoulders, her neck, her stomach, pushing gently and rubbing, testing for soreness and testing her reactions. She holds still and silent. I spread her legs. First there is the external checks, a series of gentle one-finger strokes and feathery touches. And then a gentle but insistent
opening to allow first one finger and then two. I feel inside, one hand on her stomach and one inside, one pushing against the other. Then the speculum. Yes, I have one. Two in fact!

First, I apply the lubricant to make the speculum slip in easily. Lubricant is, of course, best applied by hand. Then, when the speculum is inserted fully, I crank it open slowly, slowly so it causes no pain but opens her up wide, wide, wide so I may look and touch and explore her body thoroughly, allowing her no hiding place whatsoever. She is expected to hold still and cooperate, and last night she behaved herself during this part of the examination very nicely.

After that part is over, I slide the speculum out and have her turn over on her tummy, with pillows piled up beneath her, raising her bottom up high. This position is also practical for many of the other attentions I must pay her, but for now, it is merely examination time. I have her spread her knees apart and again, get lubricant on my fingers.

This time the lubricant is applied to her bottom. I start in small circles around her bottom hole and then slowly insert a finger to ensure she is well lubricated. She dislikes this very much and she buries her face in the pillows and I love to watch the blush travel down her neck. When the lubricant is applied with great care, I use the other spec for this part of the examination. Again, I slide the speculum in gently. When it comes to bottom tending, she needs more time to adjust to the sensation of the speculum and so I let it stay seated inside her a moment before continuing.

After that minute has passed, I open the speculum carefully, and slowly. It takes a few moments to get it open all the way, but I take my time. The object is not to cause her pain, but merely to open her wide, literally and figuratively, wide to the point of discomfort but not pain, and the pain, of course, is more psychological than physical. She is meant to feel psychologically uncomfortable at this point; I want her to feel
exposed and vulnerable.

This is the point at which she had trouble last night and resisted a little. She is not permitted to resist, and she she knows this. By resistance, I do not mean that she tried to stand up or leave the bed. I mean, only, that she did not allow her body to relax and accept the speculum as easily as she can, and when I attempted to open it, she clenched against it, fighting the inevitable opening.

This resistance
does cause more discomfort than is meant to be felt, and catches her in a viscious circle. Of course, the more she resists, the more pain she feels, and the more pain she feels, the more she resists. It is difficult, I sympathize, to control these natural and instinctual reactions. However. Yes. However, it is her responsibility to cooperate as best she can, and she was not doing her best. She was allowing her nervousness and trepidation to overtake her submission.

I warned her to relax and take another deep breath. She took the breath as directed by did not relax and I heard her whimper a little as the speculum opened wider. Annalove, I mean it, I told her, I need to relax right now, darling. I cranked the spec open all the way and she whimpered again, twisting a little. I told her this was her last warning and that if she did not immediately begin to cooperate fully, I would spank her right then and there, and then continue the examination on her red and sore bottom. That did the trick, and she took some deep breaths and I could feel the tension dissolve. With the speculum wide open I checked her completely and took a great deal longer than usual to teach her the importance of obeying when I give her instructions. It pleases me very much to watch her in this state of mind, embarrassed and struggling with her inner voices that are telling her to resist. It pleases me when she is able to obey - I am proud of her. It also pleases me when she loses the battle, for then I am required to spank that beautiful bottom to teach her a lesson. Either way, you see, I win. LOL.

I kept her opened wide for a long time, perhaps twenty minutes, touching and stroking and feeling her all over. She whined softly into the pillows but did not resist again.

When I closed the spec and slid it out she breathed a heavy sigh of relief, so heavy that I felt compelled to tell her, we are not finished honey. There's still the enema. And I patted her on the bottom, watching with pleasure to see the blush fan quickly down her neck again and her bottom cheeks tense up involuntarily. Some people say the eyes are the window to the soul. I think the bottom cheeks give away a great deal as well.

I filled up the enema bag only halfway because this was not a punishment but simply a tending ritual. Warm water reduces cramping and is easier to take. I hung the bag above her head, inserted the nozzle deeply and then stroked her bottom cheeks again. She was hiding her face in the pillow so I couldn't see her eyes. Anna, turn to look at me please.

She turned and I touched her face. I'm going to fill your bottom up with water now, love, and you're going to hold it until I tell you. She nodded and blushed more, and then as I moved back to her bottom, she turned again to hide her face.

I clicked open the valve halfway and let the water begin a steady trickle. She held still at first and I rubbed her back as the bag emptied slowly. When she started to moan, I stopped the water for a moment, giving her time to adjust her position and take some more deep breaths. She is a tiny girl and I do not expect her to hold a lot of water quickly because of her size. Particularly when an enema is not meant to be a punishment there is no reason to go fast.

When she had settled down again, I turned the water back on and let the bag finish emptying. By the time the bag was flat, she was moaning quietly again and changing position. One of the lovely things about enema administration is that during the "holding" phase, she moves naturally into a position of holding her bottom high in the air and arching her back to ease the pressure inside herself. She is unaware, of course, of the beauty of this pose, for she is fighting a battle inside herself and cannot see what I see. For my part, I am almost breathless watching her, and struggle not to mount her right then and there.

As she held the water and took deep breaths, I rubbed her back and her bottom.
Good girl. And gently touched and felt between her thighs where it was warm and wet and sweet. Her moans of discomfort mingled with moans of frustration at being teased in this way. Do you want to climax for Daddy, Anna? She moaned again and nodded and said please please.

You'll have to hold the water longer, then, yes?

Yes sir.

Good girl.

In truth it didn't take so long. She climaxed against my fingers, shuddering and whimpering within minutes. I kissed her and held her and then sent her to rid herself of the water.

Then it was time for her bath. I love to bathe her, little thing, all soapy and pink and soft. I love to clean her every part, carefully and gently attending to every portion of her body.

When bathtime was done, I dried her in the towel and carried her to our bed. Then, you see, having been
such the gentleman, indulging not yet one of my own raging desires, I parted those lovely pink bottom cheeks yet again that evening and found that the ministrations of the evening had prepared her for me very very nicely.

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