Category Archives: Iris

Be careful what you wish for

It seems like only yesterday that I was posting here about desperately needing to be spanked.  So given the title of this post, guess what I’m writing about today? 

Yep, I’ve been spanked.  Several times, actually, and not fun ones either.  Serious punishments.

But if you’ve been paying attention in the last few months, your next question might well be, "Who could have punished Iris, given the fact that she’s no longer in a disciplinary relationship?"  Or perhaps, "Who could have punished that sweet angel Iris?–she’s absolutely delightful!"  Or maybe not.  😀

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Spanko Calendar

I was just researching dates for a rather unusual calendar that I’m giving someone for Christmas (you can personalize it with anything you want) and I discovered some dates for 2007 that might be of general interest to this group.

February 10: National (International?) Plimsoll Day  —  And I know just how to celebrate!

April 30 (USA): National Spank Out Day  —  No idea what this is, but it sounds delightful.  It also happens to be National Honesty Day, which might not be as good for some people.

These are the ones I found so far.  Anyone else have any fun ones to add?

A Different Kind of Post

I've been debating about whether or not to write this post for several weeks, but I've decided that I think it could be both really good for conversation and really good for me to write out.  So here it is.

After more than two years of being in a relationship that included discipline, I now find myself without it.  Without discipline and without the relationship, that is.  (And actually, I moved into my relationship with M from another one that incorporated discipline, so I guess that means it's been about three and a half years since I've been on my own in that sense.)  Aside from the normal gut-wrenching, soul-piercing pain that accompanies any break up, I'm also dealing with the loss of any practical
application of discipline in my life.  At this point I'm still dealing with a lot of the initial grief and the loss of discipline feels kind of minor.  But it's starting to raise its head in small ways.

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Lady in Red

I'm a procrastinator.  Often I say things like "Deadlines are good for me" and, "I work well under pressure," and both of those are true.  It's also true that I procrastinate–an awful lot. 

So it's no real surprise that I needed help getting this one last paper done.  (Yes, I'm finished with my degree, but this is something else.  Don't ask.)  And M tried to be helpful by setting a deadline of August 31st, which you'll notice was several days ago.  (discreet cough)  So when it still wasn't done by this past weekend, M decided to take things to a different level.

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Needing More

I got spanked yesterday.  Punished, actually.  Last week I’d had a Diet Coke when I wasn’t supposed to, yada yada, and he’d pronounced sentence: a sound hairbrushing.  I didn’t totally agree with the severity of the punishment, but we talked about it and ended up more or less agreeing.  (Mostly he listened to me patiently and then said, "Yes, but you’re still getting spanked.")

So he pulled me over his knee, lifted up my skirt, and pulled down my panties (there’s something much more embarrassing about having a thong pulled down–no idea why).  Gave me a slight warm-up with his hand and moved on to the more serious stuff.  He started with a rice paddle, which stung like the dickens (and I HATE sting).  He even used it on my thighs, though he claims those spanks were "light."  Then he moved to a hairbrush and started spanking hard and fast, with no breaks and no mercy.  I was kicking and bucking like crazy, trying to do anything to get out of the path of the brush, but he held on tight and spanked inside my bottom and thighs when I twisted to get away.  And THEN he took the mean hairbrush and did the same thing all over again.  Needless to say, it was a very thorough hairbrushing.

But when he was done and we were snuggling on the bed, I knew I wasn’t done.

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Justice vs. Deterrence

So I’m en route from Minnesota to California, currently in the great state of Utah.  Even though my mom and I are mostly occupied with talking to each other, listening to Harry Potter on tape, and seeing lots of beautiful scenery, I still have a bunch of time to think.  And I’ve been thinking.  Lately, I’ve been thinking about the difference between punishments that are the you-earned-this kind and punishments that are the you-are-NEVER-going-to-do-this-again kind. 

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Memori-able Weekend

I haven't had much in the way of serious punishment spankings lately–for that matter, I haven't had much in the way of any punishment spankings lately.  It was really busy with graduation (family around constantly) and as I noted in a recent comment-on-a-post, I've been feeling prickly about discipline in the last month or so.  I really haven't wanted the vulnerability, so I've kept discipline at arm's length.  And M has been very good about respecting that (not that he had much choice, I suppose).

And then there was last weekend.

I was out in LA visiting, getting a few last things set up before I move out there at the end of the month, but mostly it was a relaxing weekend for the two of us to reconnect.  We haven't had much "us" time recently, and both missed it.  So it was pretty low-key.  And over the course of the weekend I found my smart mouth reasserting itself, my brat side making itself known, and even felt the beginning of a glimmer of a desire to play.  Not, you'll notice, a desire to be punished.  Just a desire to play.  But M's patience can only last so long, and by Tuesday it was at an end.  I was also feeling my oats a little because I hadn't been seriously spanked in so long–this is to explain the otherwise inexplicable lapse in judgment you're about to witness.

We were getting ready on Tuesday morning, him to go to work and me to go running down by the beach.  I was a little tired and perhaps grumpy (? honestly, I have no idea what my problem was) and as he was holding the door open for me to leave, I made some really snippy remark.  Not unkind, I don't think–more in the neighborhood of bratty.  He stopped dead in his tracks and gave me the Look like I haven't seen in weeks.  Which probably should have been my first clue.  However, I was still in my own insulated world and ignored him.  What I did, in fact, was look him straight in the eye as I put on my iPod lanyard and say, "Yeah, like you have the time or inclination to do anything about that right now."

Gulp.  This has to rank as one of the all-time stupidest possible things to say to one's disciplinarian.  Only I really didn't believe he was going to do anything about it right then, because he was running late and I'd been able to um, distract him from spanking me for something else earlier in the weekend.

His eyes sparked fire something fierce, he shut the door calmly, took off my iPod, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the bedroom.  All this time I was, of course, backtracking like crazy, babbling things like, "You're going to be late!  You don't have time!  I didn't mean it!  What are you doing?  You don't have time for this!"  He pulled several nasty things from the toy bag, shucked down my shorts and panties, and tossed me over his knee.  M's usually a pretty methodical, unruffle-able spanker, but this time he gave me no scolding, no warm up, and no breaks.  Yikes!  He started off with what we call the "quiet" hairbrush, so named because it actually makes relatively little noise on impact.  It's small and MEAN (very dense wood) and it was not a fun beginning.  After spanking me for far too long with that, he switched to the leather paddle, then moved to his hand, then paused to make really sure I understood why I was getting spanked and what exactly I could do to avoid a repeat in the near future.  By this time I was willing to avoid a repeat in any future, near or far, so he seemed satisfied with my answers.  And then he got out the two meanest wooden paddles we own and gave me about ten with each!  I was more than sore and sorry by that point, but he pulled me off his lap, gave me a hard hug, and pushed me into the corner, still with shorts and panties around my ankles.

This was a different kind of spanking for a couple reasons: one, M almost never spanks me when he's actually irritated or angry with me, and two, I rarely get put in the corner after a spanking.  Cornertime doesn't get used a whole lot, mostly if he wants to make sure I'm really contrite when he puts me over his knee, and after a spanking it's bordering on unheard-of.  So I knew he was pretty irritated.  I didn't have to stay there long, because he was still late for work, but I didn't get as much snuggling and petting as I usually get either.  Sigh.

This wasn't my favorite kind of spanking (at all), but I figured it sort of broke a barrier between us that had been slowly building for a few weeks.  And I had been a gigantic brat.  By Wednesday morning I was feeling downright chipper.  M and I were back on track, I was figuring things out for the move, I woke up early to go for a run, came back and took a cool shower: life was good.  When I went into the bedroom, naked and still damp from my shower, I was surprised to see M up and dressed.  His mouth was full of mouthwash, but he kissed me anyway and I giggled.  As I walked past him to get some clothes he grabbed my hand to get my attention, reached over into the toy bag, pulled out a hairbrush, and gestured for me to wait.  I honestly couldn't figure out what was going on, since I'd done nothing wrong, so I waited patiently while he spit out the mouthwash.  But when he came back in, sat on the corner of the bed, picked up the hairbrush, and patted his knee, I got suspicious.  "What?" I said.  "What are you doing?"  Suddenly stern, he said, "Did you write down the things in your calendar like we talked about?"

Oh shit.  See, I have these migraine things that come every once in a while.  They're not headaches, they're more like mini-seizures.  They're very well-contained and I haven't even had one in five or six months, but I'd had one on Sunday/Monday.  Ever since I started having them doctors have been telling me to track them so I have a sense of the severity, course, and any patterns.  Well, I know all about the patterns and I have a pretty good idea of when the last one was; if I start having them every 4 hours again, I'll see someone.  Otherwise, there's not much to be done.  Stupid me, I'd casually mentioned to M that I should probably jot the recent ones down and he took that seriously and told me that he'd hairbrush me if I didn't. 

But there were mitigating circumstances, honest!  I didn't have my calendar with me (had left it in MN) and he knew that.  Unfortunately, he had also decreed that I should write it down somewhere else and then transfer the info when I got home.  And I had promptly forgotten.  Completely, blissfully forgotten.  Sigh.  So I got hairbrushed.  Harder than I wanted, on an already sore bottom, and in the middle of what had started off as a perfectly lovely morning.

I know there's another, better reason to celebrate Memorial Day weekend, but somehow I think this one may rank up there in our personal history. 

Oh, and I transferred the data into my calendar this morning.

Layers of Trust

I've been thinking a bit lately about trust and the role it plays in a disciplinary relationship.  Obviously you have to trust a disciplinarian with basic things like safety and consent, but there are other issues that go along with it.  Discipline is a very deep thing for me–much deeper than (though linked to) sex.  In my pre-M days, I used to muse about whether I'd find a vanilla partner and how I'd convert them.  I even dated a few people without telling them about my need for spanking at all, and these were people with whom I was sexually active.  I was willing to have sex with them, but not to let them spank me.  Sex is a less intimate activity for me than spanking, and MUCH less intimate than discipline.  To have sex with someone I only have to be attracted to them and aroused–and trust them.  But to allow someone to spank me, especially for punishment, means that I am handing them my whole self in a little ball and asking them to be careful with it, please.

The other part of these trust musings has to do with my vanilla friends and family.  Of all the people I know in the world, maybe 10% know about my spanking side.  And outside of others in the scene, NO ONE knows about the discipline part.  Not one.  Not my best friend who knows about Shadow Lane and asks about it, not my sister, no one.  Which means there's a whole other layer of trust around punishment spankings.  Somehow it's ok if they think I do this for sex, but not ok if they know I do this for real things.

I'm not sure there's a point to this, I've just been thinking about it.  Anyone else have thoughts?

A Brief History of Iris

At the risk of sounding redundant, I’ll begin my post like Dyke Grrl and say how tickled I am to be asked to join the outstanding group of women who founded the Punishment Book.  It’s both an honor and a joy, since there are so few venues for intelligent conversation about what we do.  Thank you all for the invitation.

Now.  On to introductions.  First, the stats: I’m in my late 20s, currently living in Minnesota, days (hours!) away from receiving my graduate degree, and getting ready to move to Los Angeles.  I’m a Midwestern girl, born and raised, so California will be a whole new adventure.  While I’ll admit I’m not terribly fond of LA or Southern California, there are some people there I like very much–one in particular.  M and I have been dating for something like two years (depends on if you count from when we started dating or when we met), and it’s going to be wonderful to be in the same metropolitan area.  We’re going to be able to have dinner together and not have to plan it several months in advance!  🙂

Enough of the vanilla details.  I’ve been into spanking just about as long as I can remember.  The spines of many of my childhood books are creased at the parts where spanking occurs (M is always amazed when we come across books in stores and I can flip quickly to a spanking scene).  Fast foward 15 years to college, where I convinced my vanilla boyfriend to spank me as foreplay.  In retrospect I realize that he took to it like a duck to water, but I was always self-conscious and sure that I was the only one who got anything out of it.

After college I moved to Chicago where I discovered Crimson Moon and began to realize that my kink was not only normal, it was something to celebrate!  Yet I still had these nagging thoughts about discipline: I fantasized about it, wondered about it, craved it.  I entered into a wonderful relationship with Yoni and Tasha, who are now the owners of Bum Rap.  Yoni helped me start to understand my need for discipline and let me see that I could have it in an adult relationship and it didn’t make me less mature or adult–it’s just part of who I am.  (I still struggle with that sometimes; see below.)

And THEN I met M, which brings me to now.  How and where does discipline fit in my life at this point?  For one, I’m still discovering that it’s much different in a relationship than in my head.  And it’s very different in a long-distance relationship than in a regular, close-by one.  M and I are negotiating what it looks like for us.  He has been in the scene for a number of years but always swore he would only spank for pleasure.  As has been noted by some people, though, I could convert Gandhi into a disciplinarian. 😀   And M is adjusting to his role as top remarkably well. 

At the heart of it all for me is a need for security.  Parts of my growing up were really unstable and full of tension and I think I crave stability, security, and forgiveness.  When a spanking is over, it’s over.  I’ve been held accountable, punished, and forgiven.  There’s also the knowledge that someone is watching out for me, which means that my behavior and my Self matter to someone, that they care what I do and what happens to me. 

And there’s something else, something intangible that I can’t quite explain.  Every once in a while I need a big spanking "to clear out all the cobwebs," M says.  The daily stuff of life accumulates and I need to sweep it all out.  These are different from regular punishment spankings, which are for one specific issue (sometimes more), but they’re the same in terms of the effect they have on me.  I feel lighter, clearer, and very very loved.  It’s still one of the hardest things to admit to myself, that I need to be spanked.  If anyone else has thoughts on this, I’d welcome discussion. 

So that’s mostly about me.  My mushy, end-of-semester brain will probably think of more to add as soon as I post this, but I do want to get something up by way of introduction. 

Warm blessings!