Tag Archives: conflicting emotions

Age Play vs Age BE

I stopped everything (I have the half ironed short on the bed to prove it) to write out this post quickly, because it hit me with such resounding clarity and confusion (hehe, in other words, I fully understand that I am confused, but know why)

😉

There has been a really awesome conversation on spanking and age play in an online spanking group I am part of. It has opened up so many daggone questions for me.

And so many thoughts and so many realizations.

And once again- sooooooooo much confusion.

Anyway, the conversation was about the preferences in Age play (both for readers and real lifer’s), and there were a lot of different viewpoints.

Some like Age play, but only if sex is kept completely separate. (They called it clean or non-sexual AP)

Some like it, the darker and sexier the better. (I think I remember them calling it Dark AP)

There were people in the middle, who could take or leave certain aspects, as long as big things were present – like nurturing, caring, boundaries, guidance, love…

And then there were the people who wouldn’t touch AP with a ten foot pole.

 

 

My husband, the very vanilla (yet awesome, and I love him!) Head of our Household, can now, after two years, spank me, for pretty much any reason- YET

He still can’t say the word “Spank”. LOL, it is still called a discussion. And even when we are using a little hand on booty action for a sexual encounter, he can’t talk dirty or say anything that resembles the word “spank” or anything sounding like body parts.

He is in the “not with a ten foot pole” camp when it comes to Age play.

There are several factors to that:

He is still not comfortable playing sexually. And probably the biggest reason; we have young children. And we are both pretty tired from being “Mommy and Daddy”. The last thing we want to do is PLAY parental units.

At least, he feels that way, anyway.

 

I love the idea of being stroked on his lap, while he tells me I was such a good girl for ironing all his shirts, and cleaning up the kitchen. (If you know anything about me; just doing one of those tasks daily would put me in the VERY good girl category. 😉 )

Sometimes, I like the ideas of boundaries. More than just the HOH boundaries he instills. But maybe something like:

“You have been really grumpy the past few days, and have not been getting your chores done. You are going to go to bed at 9:30 pm for the rest of the week until you get caught up on some much needed rest.”

Or

“Did you accomplish your goal of writing 1000 words, and clean up the kitchen, good girl?”

“Oh, you didn’t. Then I am going to give you some incentive. First, you will finish the kitchen clean up like you promised. Then you will write for one hour. No reading for you tonight, young lady. Not until you finish those tasks.”

“And one more thing, you will be doing it all with a very sore little bottom. Come here.”

 

🙂

So I can honestly say, the above is something I wouldn’t mind playing with every once in a while.

But here’s the biggest problem (besides hubby).

 

I don’t PLAY young.

I don’t ACT young.

I just am.

I be.

(hehe, I bet all the grammarists are having a field day with this one J )

Seriously, it is not in my makeup to act. I have never been a very good actress. (ask my parents and every teacher I ever had. I was the worst liar. I could not do it)

I can’t just ACT like a little girl (or probably, for me- a teenager) on a whim, because I want to play around a little with my pretend hubby/ daddy.

I can’t act – because I AM young and playful.

I like to skip and sing and act crazy. It’s who I am naturally. I like to climb trees and poles and ropes. And before my big head injury, ten years ago, I loved to do flips off from every single one of the above.

I love being energetic and silly and having no inner monologue (most of the time).

I love giggling and making indecent bodily function remarks.

I AM younger than my 40 something body shows.

It just comes naturally to me, much to the chagrin of my husband during dinner parties or when we eat out. (LOL, my character in my next book, paints a chocolate mustache on her face. I sent this picture to a few friends this past year. I think they thought it was funny. The wait staff at my favorite buffet still gives me weird looks, though. :))

 

Anyway, my biggest issue seems to be with the labeling, and the word “Play”. I don’t like being labeled. And I can’t play something that I already do naturally. So there’s issue number one.

 

Issue number two deals with sex.

I fall into the non sex for AP camp. For me, since all of this comes naturally and is NOT play:

I can’t have sex with someone I am looking up to for paternal love and guidance.

Because my mind would not be able to separate that.

 

So back to paternal love and guidance.

I have had crushes on so many older boys and men throughout my life. I would latch on to them as quickly as I could. I would flirt and brat a little, and maybe, make out a little.

But sex?

I did not really want things ever to go that far.

Now that I have really started thinking about it, I think there is a possibility I was looking for older males to guide me and take care of me. I was looking for a father or brother figure. (That’s why – no sex).

So I must have been looking for a father figure to fill that void that my own father didn’t.

And now that I am married to a wonderful man, who leads me and spanks me, and has sex with me (when little people aren’t piled in our bed, or we aren’t both passed out from exhaustionJ ); I find that I am still yearning for a bit more.

 

But I am confused about this desire:

Am I actually looking for a father?

Or a big brother?

If my husband did ever agree to try it, would it be called Age Play?

How can I play something I already do naturally?

And more importantly, how do I fill that void if neither of us can take that step?

 

Okay, there’s my deep thoughts for the day. J I still have to finish that shirt. And little people will be calling for snacks soon!

Happy Monday ❤

Doing Time – In the Corner.

should wives be spanked

9:30 pm Wed night.

He put me IN THE CORNER!

Hubby came into the bedroom wanting to know what had made me so grumpy earlier this evening.

I told him “Nothing”.  And continued typing on my laptop, pretending to ignore him.

(Yes, I was bit crabby. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember why I was taking it out on him.)

He asked me again, more firmly.
“Nothing is wrong!” I replied a little bit louder.

Wrong answer, I guess.

He pulled me up, out of my chair, put my laptop on the bed, and walked me over to the corner in our bedroom, and said, “Stay.”

Holy crap!
I wasn’t even sure if he was serious, since we have NEVER even discussed corner time.

(Ok, I might have mentioned it once, when we started out, like 14-15 months ago, as a passing thought, “These are the kind of punishments you can give…”)

But we have never talked about it again. I’ve never mentioned how intrigued I have always been about it.

To be placed in the corner, like a naughty girl, was so arousing, yet so embarrassing and wrong at the same time!

My heart was in my throat, and my stomach danced with butterflies, as I sorted through all the conflicting emotions:

  • His sudden Dominance really turned me on.
  • I liked this feeling of submissiveness.
  • It was kind of humiliating to receive this kind of punishment.
  • How should I react?

He left right away, because the kids started coming downstairs from their beds, so he rushed to intercept them.

If they had come anywhere near the bedroom, I can tell you honestly, I would not have stayed in that corner. Or I at least would have pretended to be doing something important.

“Oh, darlings, just look at the difference in the coloring on these two walls. If you stick your nose right up into the corner, you can see that these are not symmetrical.  We must fix this as soon as possible!”

As it was, I didn’t stay anyway.   The corner was dirty, and there were still cords and charger plugs from the iron and my laptop, that I didn’t want to step on.

So I moved everything out of the way, just in case he was serious about following through.

Then I went to find him to apologize (and see if he had really meant it. Yes, I was testing. I’ll admit it).

He took one look at me when I came out, and growled, (Yes, he really did growl.)
“Why aren’t you where I told you to stay?”

(The kids were coming in and out of their rooms. I appreciated his cryptic question.)

“I didn’t know if you really meant it.” I pouted.

His scary, low voice replied, “I want you. Where I. put you. Wait there until I come and get you.”

Big gulp, and a slow trudge back to the icky, but now uncluttered corner.

I wondered if he would spank me for coming out, and how long he would leave me there.
Even more importantly, how long would I let myself stay there?  What if it was like an hour or so?  And why was I kind of aroused by all of this.

After maybe three to five minutes (long enough for my mind to wander into spanking territory, anyway), he came in, and told me I could come out.

I can honestly say, I felt pretty submissive. I finally explained the little things that had gotten me in my ill mood, including him being late and not calling.  He lectured me about respectful two way communication, and suggested a line. “Honey, next time you’re running late, would you please call me?”

Well, duh! That one hadn’t even crossed my mind.

And in answer to the next probable question. No there was no spanking.
Though I was kind of disappointed, (Is that weird?) I realized that I needed to adhere to my own rules.

I asked him to take charge, and be the Head of our Household.

I asked him to stop me when I’m being ugly.

I asked him to do 24/7 DD.

I asked him to make the tough decisions regarding discipline and communication.

If all I want is the spanking, then it’s just about play and sex, and we need to consider  a different route. Maybe D/S or BDSM in the bedroom only.

But…

If I’m going to follow through with this relationship, then I need to fully embrace it.

Even without the spankings.

Even with the confusing new additions, like cluttered, yucky corners.