Mismatch in Kink Partnerships

As it so happens, my last post was my 50th! Wish it had been something more meaningful than my return from vacation, ha! I started this blog in January 2024 with the hopes of re-building some sort of community and re-connecting with other people who share this thing we do, and get back to the sort of long-form writing I miss the most about the earlier online-spanking-community days. I think I’ve succeeded. There aren’t a lot of readers on a day-to-day but I know folks are here and engaged and that brings me joy and keeps me interested in writing and sharing – both of which are good for me whether there’s an audience or not.

Onward to kink mismatches…

Many people believe that if they partner with someone who shares their fetish, everything will fall into place – I was one of them, too! The reality was much different once I finally started searching for a life/nesting partner and started to explore connections with people I wasn’t perfectly aligned with, kink wise.

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Fiction: Lending a Hand to Disobedience (Part 1)

A long held fantasy, as a dream…

Orgasm control or having to ask permission to touch myself, and being “punished” with spanking, is a deep and long held fantasy of mine. It’s also the first non-spanko thing my husband and I connected on. We’ve had an “orange socks” rule about asking permission, just about since we met. That means, I have to ask him permission to touch myself or orgasm, but it’s not a “real” rule in that there are real-world implications for breaking it. But “breaking” it is between us, a way to set a tone and headspace for some discipline oriented play, for me to express submission and service. More intense orgasm control is definitely in my head, as well, and often comes back to my desire to please, serve, submit.

I rarely dream about these things – usually only spanking, but like I said in my last post, I have been reconciling different aspects of my kink and how they mesh (or don’t) together. The male tops/spankers in my dreams are usually, historically, unidentifiable. Not that they are anonymous or masked, but I don’t see their face in the dream, my “view” or perspective is from the side or behind, watching, so I can see myself but never the top. They’re more of an idea or concept, embodying the feeling of the scenario and blending the voices of those I have played with or talked about playing with.

I haven’t been having many spanking dreams lately, and even before, most of them were the same classic hard OTK spanking they always are, with some slight variations. I started 2025 off with a bang though, with this one. Apparently my NYE champagne was inspiring and I woke up on the first of the year having to contend with this.

This dream melds together some vague real-life scenarios (like being sent to bed & the idea of being caught touching myself which has happened…uh, a few times in RL with Daniel!) and fantasized about ones, such as a bedtime spanking that instead of being cozy, is hard because I was cheeky and earned it, thigh smacking on its own, uniform being a part of discipline, etc. It’s not about a specific person or real-life event, but it’s one of those that could happen, that I’d even like to happen, someday, even. The writing is more colloquial but I wanted it to feel more like how I did when I wrote it, like I was sharing it with a friend. But this is me, again, reconciling these different aspects of my kink with each other – how can they fit together? Will the fitting together work for me? What parts?

I hope you enjoy this sharing of my dream, as much as I enjoyed the dream itself. I woke up a bit confused, but content. Dreams have a surrealist feel to them, so I’ve embellished in parts, of course.

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R/L: Dear You / being exposed, feeling seen

This was written as (and shared with him first, of course) a “letter” to my husband, processing a spanking he gave me a week ago Saturday. He said he wouldn’t mind if I shared it here and I felt it fit nicely with the anecdote at the end because it’s an illustration of an example of what I am talking about. I’ve experienced a few other moments of this feeling I describe, and maybe I’ll write about them someday.

This is about being seen, not just someone physically noticing you’re there with their eyes, but seeing inside of you, to the core of who you are, your vulnerabilities, your insecurities. Being seen like this is a form of knowing someone. To me, it feels like a form of love, a way of loving (and I don’t mean romantic love).

It’s a retelling – but not in story form or even as a reporting – about an intimate, close, hot, intense, beautiful moment between my husband and I.

o0o

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