Naughty Irish Imp

Naughty Irish Imp

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Most Serious Offense

"Put the phone down now." Professor instructed; his voice startling me as I hadn't heard him enter the room. I fumbled with the power button on my new phone in an effort to turn it off. I hesitantly glanced at Professor and watched him move throughout the room rearranging furniture, setting his bag down, checking the A/C temperature. My eyes followed his body, but I avoided his face. Even without direct eye contact, I could tell how upset he was with me and as I sat in the corner of the couch quietly watching him, I felt so incredibly small. I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs, my chin resting on my bent knees as I nervously flicked the screen protector on my phone. 

Professor walked over to me and took the phone from my hand. I waited for what seemed an eternity before he finally addressed me. "Stand up." His voice was quiet but the tone was all business. I slowly rose to my feet, clasping my hands together in front of me and awaiting his further instruction. 

"Look at me, Natalie Lynn." He insisted. I slowly raised my glance from his feet up his body, stopping as I locked with his dark brown eyes. We stood there for several moments as our eyes continued their deep conversation. I wanted to turn away, to lower my eyes, to somehow escape his penetrating stare but I couldn't. I could feel my own eyes beginning to swell with tears; I felt so horribly guilty and ashamed of what I had done. I watched as his eyes flashed between worry, disappointment and anger. I hate when he has to look at me like this; it breaks my heart. I would have given anything to go back in time and change what had happened. If only I had listened to him. I'm still so angry at myself for deceiving him, for disrespecting him, for defying him. Professor is a very calm and mild-tempered man; this little stunt had infuriated him and knowing that scared me. 

"We have a couple related small offenses to address before we focus on the main incident and your defying me. Go put your nose in that corner." He instructed as he pointed across the room. I quickly obeyed and stood facing the corner, thankful to be out from under his gaze momentarily. The longer I stood there quietly contemplating, the more I felt panic rising. I have never defied Professor and I have never done something this dangerous behind his back. I had known from the day after the offense, after speaking to Professor by phone, that this was extremely serious. He had threatened to hang up on me and not speak to me; that shocked me. I only wanted to fix this now. I was so scared; I've never seen his temper before this and I now knew I didn't ever care to see it again. 

"Come here, Natalie Lynn." I slowly turned from the corner to see him sitting in a chair in the center of the room. I approached, keeping my eyes down. When I stopped and stood on his left side, I saw he had our new "gift" OTK maple paddle with several holes drilled into it....resting on his lap. "Pants down and get over my knee." He instructed as he tested the sting of the paddle against his palm. I slowly slid my jeans down over my hips and laid across his lap, my mind swimming in panic and regret. 

"On your punishment list, you described the first offense as 'extremely amusing and well deserved'.......regardless of the humor, you forgot to mention what you did was ILLEGAL and STUPID. Edit the list when you get home to accurately describe what you did. Got it?" He asked. I whispered back to him, "Yes Sir." He slid his fingers between the waistband of my panties and my skin; and in one quick motion, he yanked them down to my knees. 


Professor wasted no time in getting to work paddling my upturned bottom. Oh my God how that paddle stung! Within minutes my legs were flailing around and kicking to show my displeasure with this "gift." 


"Oww. I'm sorryyy." I cried back at Professor from over my shoulder. "Save it." Professor replied as he spaced his legs further apart, rendering me helpless across his lap, my feet no longer touching the floor. My left hand remained planted on the floor beneath me and i grabbed hold of Professors' ankle with my right hand and held him tightly as he continued paddling me. 


"Stand up." He ordered. I slowly rose to my feet and stood next him. His left hand tilted my head back so he could look into my swollen green eyes. "Over the last two weeks, with all that has been happening, I have tried to cut you some slack. I have overlooked excessive cursing and attitude from you that I otherwise would not tolerate. But it quickly got out of hand and you continued to push the envelope. I don't mind you venting to me, I want to know when you're upset so that I can help to calm you and fix it. But your lashing out *at* me and trying to negotiate rules with me is not acceptable and you know it. I gave you an inch and you took a mile. The disrespect was rather stunning and I can't and wont overlook that, young lady. Do you understand me?" He asked. 

"Yes Sir. I'm sorry." I apologized. 

"I know you're sorry. Venting to me is fine but intentionally being disrespectful and bitchy is not and you're going to be punished for that. Stack the pillows in the center of the bed and lay over them." He instructed. 

I placed three pillows in the middle of the bed and slowly climbed up to lay over them. I laid my head on the backs of my arms, waiting for my whipping to begin. The bed dipped as Professor sat next me and I closed my eyes lost in his touch as he gently massaged oil into my tender skin. 

"I have earned your respect and I expect you to show it when speaking to me, regardless of your mood. Clear?" He scolded. "Yes Sir." I whimpered as I clutched the blankets tightly in my fist, anticipating the first swats of my whipping. 


I bit my bottom lip to keep from squealing as the stinging leather from his belt fell again and again on my moist skin. Professor walked from one side of the bed to the other and applied swat after searing swat in his typical methodical manner. 


I kicked my feet against the bed and tried to wish away the sting but that belt fell again and again, over and over. Biting into my sensitive skin and covering every inch of my bottom and thighs. Hot, salty tears ran down my cheeks as I fought to choke back my sobs and just submit to the punishment in an effort to demonstrate my remorse. As much as it hurts when Professor whips me with his belt, I almost wished it wouldn't end because I knew when it did we would address my defiance and just the thought made me sick. 


The belt fell to the bed directly in front of my face and Professor again sat next to me as I lay quietly sobbing into the backs of my arms. He gently traced the welts from the belt with his fingertips. I closed my eyes and my breathing slowed as I laid quietly relishing his touch and hoping time would crawl. He firmly massaged another layer of oil into the aching skin before standing and calling to me. "Up, come here." I slowly slid off of the bed and again stood to Professors' side, my eyes downcast. He reached forward with his left hand, encircling my wrist and guiding me down across his lap. Again, he gently massaged the throbbing skin of my bottom and thighs. Then a crisp SLAP! I inhaled sharply, not expecting the swat or the force behind it. Again, SLAP! I bit my bottom lip to mute my discomfort. 


I struggled to stay still as Professor spanked my reddened bottom briskly with his hand. He has very large, strong, "spanker's hands." The same hand that merely moments ago was gently massaging and kneading my sore skin, was now rapidly spanking my bottom, applying hard, stinging, unforgiving swats. I sobbed aloud as Professor turned his attention to my sit spots and the under side of my cheeks, applying several dozen harsh swats in a row before moving to the next. "Owww. I'm sorryyy Sirrr.....pleassee." I cried to him as he continued to punish my sore bottom.


When the swatting subsided, Professor helped me to stand and he moved the chair to the side of the room. I stood still in the center of the room, my eyes locked on the floor, my heart racing. I watched his feet as Professor slowly approached me and stopped directly in front of me. Tears again escaped my eyes and my stomach was in knots. "Look at me." He insisted. I sighed and slowly raised my eyes to again lock with his. "You defied me." He stated in a menacingly soft tone. Tears slowly cascaded down my cheeks. "You put yourself in serious danger. You deliberately disobeyed my mandate. You did this behind my back, keeping me in the dark and YOU CHOSE TO DEFY ME, Natalie Lynn." I closed my eyes as he raised his voice. I held his gaze, cautiously searching for some small sign of softening, but I was met with resolve.......worry, confusion, fury and resolve. 

"You have never defied me before. But last CHOSE to do it. Worth it?" He asked. I meekly replied, "No Sir. I'm so sorry." His dark brown eyes narrowed at mine; I wanted to turn away but I couldn't. "Do you understand that blatant defiance ends relationships?" He questioned, watching me closely. My tears trickled down my cheeks at a consistent pace now and it was all I could do to maintain eye contact with him. I felt so small, so guilty, so ashamed and so scared. "Do you have any idea how scared I was when I heard what you had done? I had told you NO, Natalie Lynn. I told you NO several times and you waited until I was preoccupied and you went behind my back and deliberately disobeyed me! You CHOSE TO DEFY ME!" He barked. "I'm sorry Sir. I'm so sorry." I whimpered up to him before hanging my head and sobbing. 

Professor grabbed me by my upper arm and marched me over to the couch, pressing me forward. "Put your hands flat on the back of the couch and stick your bottom out. You will stay in that position until I tell you otherwise, young lady." He demanded. I bent forward, resting my hands on the couch and pressing my bottom back and out. 

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK   Professor quickly applied a half dozen hard swats to my left cheek with his heavy paddle. The burn was intense.

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK    Next the right cheek. Harder than before. The force Professor was putting behind these paddle strokes literally moved my body forward on impact. I whimpered out and fought to remain still.

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK    He connected a half dozen times with my left thigh, followed immediately by the right thigh:   WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

"Owww. I'm sorryyyy." I cried to him over my shoulder. I knew I deserved it but that knowledge didn't make the paddling any easier to take. I have an extremely high tolerance to pain and can take about any spanking, but when Professor paddles me quickly with our heaviest paddle it is an intensity I can not begin to describe and it quickly pushes me to my limits and far beyond. 


Several more unforgiving swats connected and I squealed out as my hands balled into fists squeezing the couch with all my might. Professor wasn't lecturing, he didn't have to; he just let the paddle convey his displeasure with me. The skin on my bottom and thighs felt so tightly stretched that even a tiny movement pulled it painfully tight. 


Another couple dozen searing swats found their mark and I cried uncontrollably. I am usually very stoic when I am punished but I couldn't contain the emotion today. Physically, this paddling had pushed me beyond my limit and emotionally I was a mess. Professor could have whipped me and paddled me all day and it wouldn't have been enough for what I had done. I wanted only to accept my punishment so that I could be forgiven and we would move on. I'd been scared all week that maybe what I had done wasn't forgivable....maybe Professor wouldn't want to keep me after I had done this....maybe I was too bad to be his girl. The thought was crushing and though it wasn't over yet, I felt some reassurance in Professor punishing me because it meant he still cared enough to hold me accountable. 

I felt Professor again massaging oil into my bruising skin. Even the slightest touch caused me to flinch and inhale sharply, but I remained in position and savored his firm and gentle touch. My tears fell effortlessly to the cushions of the couch where my red hair draped. I sobbed softly and silently hoped that he was done punishing me so I could be held. I knew I didn't deserve it, but I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms right now. 

"I am going to give you 100 hard swats with this paddle now. They will be close to full force and you will not move from position, young lady. Got it?" My heart sunk and fresh tears filled my eyes as I answered him, "Yes Sir." Professor softly stroked my hair as he spoke again, "My daughter will not defy me. You deserve everything you're getting. You will NOT defy me, little girl. Understood?" I cried and responded softly, "Yes Sir. I'm so sorry." 

Professor tapped the paddle to my bottom and spoke again, "You will count each swat, and after repeat: 'I will not defy you, Sir.' Clear?" I nodded my head and whispered a soft, "Yes Sir." The tapping stopped and I saw Professor take a step back; I braced for the first swat and it landed swiftly and just as he had promised, the force took my breath away.

WHACK   "One, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Two, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Three, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Four, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Five, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Six, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Seven, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Eight, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Nine, I will not defy you, Sir."
WHACK   "Ten, I will not defy you, Sir."

"Now, just count." Professor instructed as he placed his right hand on the small of my back, an unspoken reminder to stay in position. 

WHACK WHACK WHACK  Three harsh swats connected with my left cheek. I cried out the count. "Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen Sir."

WHACK WHACK WHACK   Three bit into the right. I rose up onto my tip toes as I absorbed the force of the swats.  "Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen Sir."

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK   I had expected three, but seven unforgiving swats rained down one right after the other onto my right thigh. I squealed, "Owwww. Sirrr pleassseeee." 

"Count or we start over." He barked, his detached tone breaking my heart. "Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three Sir." 

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK   "Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, Twenty-Six, Twenty-Seven, Twenty-Eight, Twenty-Nine, Thirty Sir." I counted aloud between my sobs as the burn in my left thigh sunk in.

I wanted so badly to throw my hands back to protect my bottom and thighs; but I knew better. I only wanted to please him now. I knew I deserved to be whipped all day for this and I just wanted to accept my punishment and earn my way back into his good graces. Again, Professor firmly kneaded and massaged oil into my bottom and thighs and then again tapped the paddle to my bottom, causing me to flinch in anticipation. "Count to yourself. Don't move or reach back or we start again. Clear?" He warned. I sobbed and sniffled as I answered, "Yes Sir."


Those ten fell quickly to my right cheek and thigh. I sucked in air as if I'd never breathe again. This paddle is heavy and it hurts a lot just applied slowly......applied in back to back groupings of forceful swats, it was an unbearable intensity. I cried and cried as Professor continued to punish me.


The next ten connected with my left cheek and thigh. I rocked back and forth on my tip toes, fighting the urge to cover my bottom. Realizing I had made it to the half-way point was somehow not nearly as reassuring a thought as I had hoped it would be. 

"You will never defy me again, Natalie Lynn. You choosing to do it even this once can make you think there can be exceptions as to when you do or do not choose to obey me. I wont tolerate defiance from my daughter. Do you understand me?" He scolded. I hung my head and just cried, his tone was still detached and all business and my heart was broken; I needed to know we would be okay. My bottom and thighs were on fire but my heart hurt so much more. "Yes Sir. I am sorry. I'd take it back if I could. I'm just so very sorry Sir." I cried to him. He again tapped the paddle to my blistered and bruised bottom as he instructed me again. "Count and repeat: 'I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions.' If you lose count, we will start again. Understand me young lady?" I sobbed and answered, "Yes Sir."

WHACK   "Fifty-one. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-two. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-three. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-four. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-five. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-six. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-seven. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-eight. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Fifty-nine. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."
WHACK   "Sixty. I will not defy you again Sir, no exceptions."

Professor had not given in and decreased the force of the paddling, each swat fell just as hard, if not harder, than the last. I was crying quite openly at this point and dreading the balance of the paddling I had been promised. I hadn't seen my bottom or thighs, but I knew by the feel that they had to look absolutely awful.....not that it mattered, Professor and I have never let the appearance of my bottom dictate the end of a punishment. Often by the end of my punishments, my bottom feels invincible and almost numb, making me able to withstand any amount of punishment.......but today, as with my last spanking for fighting, Professor was punishing me with our heaviest paddle and swinging it down hard and fast.....leaving me no time to brace for each swat. The pain was continuous and it was intense. My entire body was shaking by this point and I could no longer contain my sobs. I cried and cried, apologizing to him over and over. I felt horrible for what I'd done and would've given anything to fix the damage I had done. 

"You may count to yourself now. Don't move." He warned again. Professor stepped in, closer to me, his hip now resting against my body. He wrapped his right arm securely around my waist, his leg between my two legs effectively thrusting my bottom out even further. My left hand remained planted firmly on the couch but my right held securely to Professors' thigh as I braced for the paddle to begin its assault again. 

"You are MINE! MY LITTLE GIRL, MY WILL OBEY ME!" He scolded. I closed my eyes and my body instinctively jumped each time he raised his voice. I felt so small and so ashamed of what I'd done. Then, without another word being uttered, he set to paddling my bottom again, with far more force than he had already.


I squealed and cried out as the last 40 swats fell and ignited a new inferno on my bottom and thighs. I held tightly to Professors' thigh and sobbed incoherently. I fought the urge to rub the sting out of my bottom and just stood, leaning against Professors' leg as I cried and apologized over and over. Professor again encircled my wrist in his left hand and escorted me to the corner, not saying a word to me. I stood facing the wall quietly crying and waiting for him to call me out of the corner and pull me into an embrace. I stood for several minutes, slowing my breathing as I listened to Professor moving around behind me. It seemed an eternity before he spoke again, but he didn't call me out as I had expected.

"Your phone is on. I'm sitting it here next to you on the desk. You are to stay there in that corner thinking about what you did. You may touch that phone ONLY when I call. Do you understand me, young lady?" He asked. I answered quickly, "Yes Sir." Then I stood there, confused as I listened to the door open and close behind me. I replayed his instructions and it suddenly hit me......he was leaving me. :(

Professor has *never* left me. He has walked out briefly during punishment but always come back within mere minutes. He has *never* left me; not before holding me and talking to me afterward. As this realization hit me, I wanted so badly to run after him and catch him in the parking lot and beg him to come back to me. I couldn't do it.....I was frozen in place by his mandates and I couldn't disobey him now. Fresh tears spilled out onto my cheeks and several times I cried out....."Please come back" and "I need you, please don't leave me."

Time seemed to crawl.....10 minutes.....15......20. I stood in the corner, my jeans entangled around my ankles, my bottom a sore bruised mess. I was broken. My heart completely broken. Professor does not leave me. I am punished and then I am forgiven. Today I was just punished. I held my phone in my shaking hands and yelled at it, "Call me! Damn it, please ring." I was dizzy with the pain in my heart. I was so very sorry for what I had done and absolutely distraught knowing that Professor had left me. I was confused, my panicked little mind raced through millions of thoughts.

"Why did he leave me? He *never* leaves me."
"You know why he left idiot! Shut up, it is your own damn fault."
"Does he not want me as his girl anymore? Am I too bad?"

I slowly sunk down to the floor, a bawling mess. I stayed that way in the corner for another 10 minutes or so until my phone finally rang.

"Hello." I meekly mumbled.

"You may come out of the corner now & pull up your pants. You are to stay in your room until 5pm. No TV, no phone, nothing. Stay in your room and think about what you did. At 5pm you can go home. I will call you tomorrow." Professor instructed.

"Why did you leave me?" I cried.

"I left because you needed time to be alone and really think about the decision you made and what that could have done to us." He answered.

"I'm so sorry." I whimpered. I wanted so badly to beg him to come back, but I couldn't do it. I knew if I asked him to come back to me then I would be questioning his decision. I was so incredibly hurt but I wanted only to please him and that required unquestioned submission. 

"I know you're sorry. You need to think alone right now. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodbye." He replied before disconnecting the call.

I was crushed. Still so shocked that he had left me but bewildered by how simply he had said he would call me tomorrow........that seemed an eternity to me and I just felt crushed by the overwhelming weight of emotion. I needed him and I couldn't even articulate that need because it would question his judgement. 

I muted my phone and then curled up on the couch, crying hysterically into a pillow. Broken. Ashamed. Scared. Confused. Miserable. Guilty. Sore. Consumed by crushing raw emotion. 

This made no sense to me. I knew I probably did deserve this punishment but I hated it. Professor has grounded me or used some other non-spanking punishment at times *before* I am spanked. But one thing I have become very accustomed to is being punished and then forgiven. I expect that I will be whipped and then pulled into his arms and reassured that it is 'over' and we are 'okay.' That didn't happen this time. I had been dreading this punishment because to me, this was by far the worst trouble I had ever been in. When Professor first heard what I had done, he had considered ignoring me. I had truly infuriated him, which I had never done before. Professor is a patient, calm, measured and mild-tempered man......I had made him so incredibly angry with my ignorance this time that I was genuinely scared that I may have pushed him too far and he may not want to keep me. Thinking logically about it now, I realize the abandonment fears are not legitimate.....but at the time, those fears were paralyzing. 

I laid on that couch, in a curled up ball for more than a half hour crying uncontrollably into the pillow. I was crying so hard that I hadn't heard the door opening behind me. 

"Stand up." Professors' deep, steady voice echoed behind me. I was frozen in place, unable to move and almost certain I was hallucinating. He said he would call me tomorrow......I hadn't articulated my need to him. Certain I was imagining, I continued to cry into my pillow, completely heartbroken. 

"Stand up." Professor repeated. I turned slowly and saw his towering frame over me. I stood up in front of him, my eyes downcast as I cried softly. Professor reached forward and took hold of me by the shoulders and pulled me into him, wrapping me tightly in his strong arms. His left hand softly stroking my hair as he laid my head to his chest. I lost it and was again crying uncontrollably. All of the emotion of the situation seemed to flood over me at once. Shame, anger, fear, guilt, worry, pain and need. Professor held me tight as I cried on his chest and apologized over and over. 

"Ssshhhh. It's okay. I'm here, calm down. Ssshhh." He spoke softly to me as he held me tightly. I could have stayed there in his arms all day. I needed him and he came back for me. I closed my eyes and rested my head to his chest.....content to just listen to the soothing rhythmic beat of his heart as he slowed my breathing and quieted my crying. After several minutes being in his arms, he took me by the shoulders and held me at arms length, carefully studying my face as he spoke.

"I made it all the way back to campus, my mind made up to leave you here to think alone. But when I called and heard your voice, I knew my little girl needed me. And as much as I thought you deserved it, I just couldn't leave you here alone. Don't you think for a second that I am weak because I came back to you. I promise you, that if you *ever* defy me again, you will be left alone in your room to think about it after I've whipped you and your tears will not change that. Do you understand me, young lady?" He warned. 

I sniffled and shook my head as I answered him, "Yes Sir." 

Then I immediately wrapped my arms around his waist again, laying my head back on his chest and sobbing as I spoke, "Thank you Sir. I'm so sorry. I promise it wont ever happen again. Thank you for coming back for me." Professor held me tightly and calmed me down. I could have stayed in his embrace forever. I knew then that we would be okay. I knew what I had done was absolutely horrible and I felt so ashamed. I knew I had disappointed him, I had worried him and I had angered him. I knew he loved me enough to punish me for my mistakes. I knew he loved me enough to come back for me even if I didn't deserve it. I knew I was forgiven. And I knew we would be able to move past this and that we were going to be just fine. 

**I published a few other posts about this incident (Still Processing, What Did I Do and Submission VS Impulse) with information about the offense, session and aftermath. I apologize that I can not give specific details about this offense as I have always done with every other offense.....but hopefully even without the offense details, you can follow and understand the severity of the situation. It took me so long to write the session itself out because it was honestly the most intense punishment I have ever experienced. Emotionally I am still struggling with what I did and the repercussions that could have been. As much as this punishment hurt, it also said so much to me on a deeper level. I will *never* be able to thank Professor for the gift he gave me by coming back when I needed him the most. Trusting him has got to be one of the best decisions I have ever made. The man is amazing and I am an incredibly lucky girl to belong to him.**

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Ahh More Insight

A few questions from blog readers.........and my answers to them.

#1) Do you record your sessions (visual or audio)?

No, Professor and I have not ever recorded a session. Not that either of us is particularly opposed to the idea; we just simply haven't done it. Perhaps, a future venture.

#2) Would you ever post pictures? Is Professor hot?

Would I post pictures, likely not. I am very careful to protect both of our identities. Both Professor and I have families, friends, public careers, etc that would be less than understanding of our relationship with one another. I can not and would not jeopardize our privacy.

Is Professor hot? If you're referring to his body temperature, he is typically a warm 98.7 degrees. :) If you're referring to him being physically attractive, yes I think so. And being that he is married, at least one other woman finds the man attractive. :) He is tall and athletically built. His dark brown eyes are incredibly expressive and absolutely gorgeous. He has a dominant jaw line, which I find attractive in most men. He has broad shoulders and strong arms. When he is pleased, he has a beautiful smile. No random piercings, tattoos or Tall, dark & handsome......yes, Professor is an attractive man.

#3) Do you two go to kink events?

I have in the past; Professor has not yet. We have discussed the idea of going together and I'm certain we will in the future; we simply have not yet.

#4) You're sassy sometimes; has Professor ever slapped you? If not, would you allow him to do so?

I can be sassy or mouthy or disrespectful at times; but it is rare that I am that way with Professor. Actually, I've only been disrespectful by phone or email.....I've never been able to do it in person. Has he slapped, he hasn't.....I've thought once or twice that he might when I've cursed during a punishment, but no Professor has not ever slapped me.....yet. 

Would I allow him to slap me crazy but I don't worry about "allowing" anything. Professor is my Disciplinarian and my Dom; I submit to him and belong to him. I would trust the man with my life and know he would never truly hurt me.....not physically, not emotionally, not at all. Him taking responsibility for me gives him the harder job. I simply have to trust, and my trust he has earned. My one and only decision is that I submit.....period. It is not my place to tell him what is or isn't acceptable, allowed, etc. He is firm but he is fair and my punishments have always fit the crime. If Professor felt I deserved to be slapped, then he could certainly slap me. It would shock me I'm sure, but I'd have no more of a problem with him slapping my face than I do him whipping my bottom. It is his job to decide what punishment I deserve, not mine. 

#5) What does Professor call you outside of a scene?

The same things he calls me during a Dependent on the topic, mood, circumstances being discussed, etc he may call me by only my first name "Natalie", he may call be by my first and middle name "Natalie Lynn", he may call me "young lady", he may emphasize the ownership of our relationship by calling me a possessive term "my brat" or "my girl" or "my daughter", he may call me Miss (last name), he may call me "little girl".......the list is limitless and changes dependent on the situation. What I call him is a far shorter list: "Professor" or "Sir." 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

"Are You A Sub?"

I often get questions from readers of my blog. I answer some in a post on the blog and others I answer simply with an email reply. This question sort of caught me off guard and the more I considered the question, the more I analyzed, the more I had to write about the question.

"Are you a sub?"

What an odd question to ask a girl who authors a blog on spanking, discipline, Dominance & submission.

But the more I thought about this question and my reflexive answer, the more I wondered myself. I think this is a loaded question and requires a multi-faceted answer.

Am I a submissive person?

Not in the slightest. If you met me in my day to day life you'd probably be caught off guard by my dominance. I am a very strong type A personality. I am not ever afraid to speak my mind or fight for what I know and/or believe is right. 'Submissive' is a character trait very few people would attribute to me.

Am I a submissive woman?

See answer above.

Do I have a need or urge to be submissive?

In general: no.

In the context of one relationship: yes, I absolutely do want and need to be submissive.

Every spanko identifies with a niche within the kink; for me, it is discipline. Not imaginary let me be a brat and drive you crazy sort of play either. I have very real issues that I want to address, habits I want to break, negative behaviors I need to correct. I sought true discipline to help better me as a person; but perhaps more than that I love the security this dynamic provides.

Within my relationship, I am many things, among them is submissive. I have not ever blindly submitted; I'm not one of the girls who could go to a party and acquiesce to any random Dom/Top. True discipline requires a deep trust and finding a compatibility in this is damn near impossible. I say often that I am lucky that I found Professor, and I believe I truly am. The beginning was daunting; I am not a trusting girl by nature but I knew for this to work, I had to give him the chance to earn my trust and respect. As soon as I took down that wall, he quickly earned both.

The longer I have been his girl, the closer we've become......the more important my submission has become to me. I admire and respect this man tremendously and that transcends far beyond any scene or session. He is an amazing man. A husband, a father, an educator, a coach, a mentor, an adviser, a disciplinarian, a friend. I value his opinion is far more than discipline alone. Politics, raising children, sports, religion, ethics, morals, family life, career advancement.......we discuss it all. He has become one of my best friends.

Within the confines of our relationship, Professor is a dominant man and I, his submissive girl. Pleasing him pleases me. I find his inner sadist absolutely intoxicating and feel rather special knowing that is a side of him that only I can see, explore and play with. And I can assure you all that he is the *only* man before which I would kneel....the only man to which I would submit....the only person who I would willingly surrender control to. I find the fact that he is demanding & strict an affirmation of his care for me as *his* girl......and yes, his demanding, authoritative & overwhelmingly dominant personality is a turn on for me......second only to his intelligence.

Never before a fan of them, I absolutely love possessive terms of endearment now. Being called his girl, his daughter, his brat.....puts a smile on my face. I love belonging to this man. I am his to lead, his to guide, his to discipline, his to teach, his to punish.

The two sweetest things the man has ever said to me:
#1: "I do not like that you're hurting. I am the only one/thing allowed to cause you pain."
#2: "You are to take care of my property: you."

I do not resist his control; in fact I actually quite like it. No man seeks to control what he does not truly care about. My driving, my language, my everyday interactions, my social drinking.....all things he maintains firm control over. I submit to him dozens of times each day. I tap my brakes at 75mph, I refrain from adding the F word to a rant.......each time, I am submitting because it is not only what he demands, but what he expects of his girl. When I slip and when I struggle, his reaction is the first thought in my mind. I aim to please him, fear angering him and *hate* to disappoint him.

Our dynamic is important to me and as with the admiration and respect, our dynamic also transcends far beyond a scene or session. Even in casual conversation, I am careful to remain respectful and subtly submissive. If you sat next to us at lunch, you would likely hear me address him as, "Sir." It is almost a term of endearment. Dependent on my behavior during lunch, you may also hear him scolding me for bad language. I make no distinction or differentiation, in public or in private, I am his and I will submit.

When I fail to meet his expectations or push the boundaries he has set for me, he quickly and firmly will put me in my place. He sets high expectations because he knows I can meet them, when I don't it is seen as a choice to disobey and he will punish me. I submit to punishment because I know I am wrong, truly want to do better/be better, want to pay for the mistake I've made in order to release the guilt, need forgiveness......but most importantly to me, I submit because I *need* to please him. His approval is extremely important to me.

So my multi-faceted answer to this loaded question is:

I am not at all a submissive person but I absolutely am a submissive girl within the safe confines of my relationship with Professor. I want to submit, I need to submit. Pleasing Professor truly pleases me. With him, and him alone, yes I am a submissive.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

A *Real* Father

I grew up without a father. 

I know who my biological father is and I refer to the man as what he is, my sperm donor. I am his oldest daughter and just 1 of his 16 children (several different mothers). My two older brothers have always been close to the man and he was a great father for them. Always at their games, taking them fishing, celebrating their accomplishments, etc. 

While I saw the man often when he was around for my brothers, he would rarely even acknowledge my presence. I've said at times that I doubt he can even spell my name. This bothered me a lot when I was younger. From probably about age 6 through 13 or so, it upset me that I wasn't "good enough" and I did everything I could to get the mans attention. I excelled in school.....he didn't care. I was an athlete.....he didn't care. I caused trouble.....he didn't care. Good or bad, it never mattered......I never mattered. That is a pretty hurtful realization for a kid......I wasn't good enough, I didn't matter.

My sperm donor is now on life support and his wife is calling his children to ask our opinions on pulling the plug. Of his 16 children, 10 loved the man and 6 of us didn't. I wasn't mean to his wife, I simply told her that I had no preference and didn't care to be there and she should ask the 10 children that were close to him. It would be more appropriate to call me an acquaintance than his child. She seemed put off by the fact that I wouldn't want a chance to say 'goodbye.' She went on about how I would grow to regret my decision, how I needed to 'fix' the relationship, how I was being bitter and heartless. 

I'm certain I will not regret my decision to not be present for his death. Her notion of 'fixing' the relationship was confusing......there was never a relationship in the first place, which means there is nothing to fix. It isn't like we were close and had an argument that distanced us; we never had a relationship. In fact, my brother gave me away at my wedding and not my sperm donor. 

I, personally, don't even want listed in the mans obituary. I am a human being, not an accomplishment of his. I find it disgusting that anyone born beyond say 1880 would have 16 children in the first place. I don't think I am being bitter or heartless. I have a heart, this man simply isn't in it. I don't feel that I am bitter, I am not trying to be mean or cruel, I don't hate him......I simply don't care. The opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference. I am trying to be respectful and sympathetic to his wife and to my siblings. I will fly home for the funeral to support my family; but this is not a personal loss for me. 

Providing sperm for conception is *not* being a father or is simply becoming a sperm donor. That is the easy part and most any man could accomplish the feat. The *real* work is raising your child. Setting an example. Teaching right from wrong. Providing support, discipline, love, guidance. Celebrating my successes and helping me to learn from my failures. Demonstrating for me what a man is, what a father is. Setting boundaries & limits and enforcing them. Providing for me an unconditional love, a safe place to fall, a shoulder to cry on, a man to look up to, a confidante and friend. 

I have been a mother only 4 years myself, but it is without a doubt the most difficult thing I have ever done......but it is also the most rewarding. Parenting isn't an easy task but it comes with the responsibility of creating a life. I was not important enough for him to accept that responsibility.....his loss.

I made it to 26 without ever knowing what it would be like to have a *real* dad. The man who donated the sperm to make my life possible is *not* my father. That was his choice. 

I have been lucky enough to experience over this last year what having a father feels like. Professor has chosen to show me what my sperm donor never would; and I will never be able to thank him enough. 

He isn't biologically mandated to care for me, but he does. He volunteered for the daunting task of "raising me." He has taught me so much and continues to teach me every day. He is the man I want to call when I am having a bad day. When I am struggling with something, I know he will provide me with the advice I need and support me. Whether I am good or bad, I am still *his* and he loves me regardless. He cares enough to put his foot down and to tell me "No!" He sets limits to protect me and provides consequences when I cross those lines. He is the first person to tell me he is proud when I succeed and the first person to insist I learn from my failures. When I am lost, he will provide direction. He encourages me, supports me, disciplines me, teaches me, guides me, sets an amazing example for me......he loves me........not because he had to, because he chose to. 

I used to say, "I made it to 26 without a dad and I don't need one now." That statement is half true......I did make it to 26 without a father........but I *did* and do need one. I will always be appreciative of Professor willingly meeting that need for me. The admiration and respect that I have for him is what I imagine most little girls feel toward their father. 

He didn't have to..........He chose to. I have learned more from Professor in the last year than I ever did from my sperm donor. I would honestly be more concerned with Professor having a cold than I am the passing of the man I never knew. Yes, we share some DNA but I am losing nothing with his death. 

When I need advice....when I need support....when I have a question....when I need a shoulder to cry on....when I need to talk....when I need encouragement....when I deserve to be punished....when I need to feel that paternal love & *real* father will meet those needs, as he has from day #1. 

Thanks Professor. :) 

Monday, October 22, 2012

Submission VS Impulse

I still have not been able to write about my recent punishment session with Professor. It was incredibly difficult on many levels. I will eventually post the actual session; but for now here is the email I sent to him the day after our session and his response to me. It will give you a decent glimpse into the session and serve to explain the emotional complexity that has kept me from writing our actual session yet. 

She Said:

Professor..... much to say, but where to begin? Since you know everything that happened prior to you leaving, I will start there. When you sat the phone next to me and left....just typing that is have never left me, Professor. You've walked out briefly but always were still there, and when you sat the phone next to me, I knew you were actually leaving. When the door closed, I was, in a word: broken. I wanted so badly to run after you but I couldn't. I was frozen in place by your instructions. Standing there, I cried and I waited...10 minutes....15....20....time seemed to crawl. I picked up my phone....I wanted to call, to text but I couldn't. 30 minutes, it rang and I answered. I was still crying, stunned that you had really left me. The entire call I was so torn.....submission or impulse. On one hand I knew that my defying you certainly warranted the punishment. On the other, I wanted you to come back.....I needed you to come back. I
am impatient and "I'll call you tomorrow" seemed like an eternity but if I argued or asked you to come back, I would be questioning your decision. Torn....the entire 2 minutes and 18 seconds of the call.

But by the end of the call, I realized there wasn't a decision to be made...not by me, need to please you meant I would submit without question. After hanging up, I curled up on the couch, crying into the pillow and my over-analytical mind raced between the: "I can't believe he left me. Why did he leave me?" and the: "Shut up idiot, you know why he left and you did this to yourself." You have *never* left me, Professor. I was heartbroken and scared and alone. You left me standing in the had not smiled, you had not pulled me into a was not over for me....I hadn't been forgiven. Laying there I again fought the impulse to call and beg you to come back.....I couldn't do said you would call me I had to wait until tomorrow. I hated it. I turned the volume off on my phone and just laid there curled up on the couch crying. I only today noticed the text message you had sent me saying you were coming back. With my phone muted, I didn't see it yesterday, I didn't know you were coming back until you came through the door. You had come back to me. I could have stood there in that hug all day, I didn't want to let you go.

Professor, you told me not to think that you were weak for coming back. I have thought a lot between now and then and that thought has not once entered my mind. I know better. I would not have the respect that I do for you if I thought I could manipulate you or that you were in any way weak. Your firmness fights your intelligence for my favorite Professor asset. I would only use the adjective "weak" in assessing your knowledge of designer handbags. Weakness was not conveyed by your choosing to come back.....but let me tell you what it *did* say to me.

I still have not decided if it was due to the crazy boy stress or maybe some irrational abandonment fear but I needed you to come back. I wanted you to come back.....but more than that, I *needed* you to come back. My need to please you and submit to you won out over impulse and I didn't articulate that need to you, I couldn't, I hated it but I accepted your decision and submitted. When the door opened and I heard your voice, "stand up", I was almost in that moment as shocked as I'd been that you had left. I did not ask you to come back....I wanted to, but I didn't. I had not articulated that need......I didn't have knew....and you came back for me. Professor, in the 9 months that I have been your have done a lot for've shown me so much, taught me so much....but what you gave me by coming back for me yesterday is without a doubt the most important to me.

Professor you would have been justified in not coming back. What I did by defying you was horrible. Defiance and disrespect that blatant can and does end D/s relationships, particularly those disciplinary in nature. As much as it hurt knowing you had walked away from me, I knew it could have been worse. I hated it, it crushed me but I knew I deserved it and as much as it hurt, I knew I trusted you and would accept it. If you hadn't come back the hurt would have lingered, I would be scared, unsure. I needed you Professor....I didn't say it, I didn't have knew. Knowing that, typing it even now brings tears to my eyes. You knew I needed you and you came back for me....not because you're weak, because you care. I can not begin to express it all or thank you enough for what you did by coming back and what that act said to me.

I am not much of an emotional girl.....I can easily transfer any unpleasant emotion (i.e. fear, hurt, sadness) into anger and I often do because it is 'safe' for me. I intentionally keep people at arms length because I have been hurt. I try not to let my guard down, not to let people in, not to get 'too close' because it is when you are comfortable that you are can be hurt only when you trust. Trust, love, open emotion makes a person vulnerable. I learned these things early in my life and have navigated most relationships in this way to protect myself and I suppose that void-of-emotion, abrasive bitch persona has served her purpose. The thing about a D/s relationship is that I *had* to open up if I wanted this to work. It was March 3....the day after our first ever in-person were still very new to me but I knew I wanted this to work. I didn't blindly trust but I might as well have. When I have tested you Professor, you've
never backed down. When I have needed you, I ask and you're right there. But yesterday I didn't ask....I simply trusted and you knew I needed you. That was *HUGE* for me.

You could *very* easily hurt me Professor, because I trust you and because that trust allowed me to open myself up to you. I care so much for you that I have armed you myself with the ammunition you could use to hurt me. But even considering that fact, and knowing how much you could hurt me, I have never felt the security that I did yesterday when you came back and held me. People are jerks Professor.....and I trust selectively because of that, I love selectively because of that.....yesterday you showed me how right I was to trust you. Thank you Sir.

As for the warning, "if you ever defy me again, you will be left alone in your room, your tears will not change that".......yes Sir I understand that but you will win the lottery, be attacked by Jaws and struck by lightening all in the same day before I ever defy you again. :)  Thank you, Sir.

Natalie Lynn


He Said:

I know this, Natalie.  I also know that you understand why you were wrong, that you won't do it again, and I know that you have been through enough.  

Saturday, October 20, 2012

What Did I Do?

I am a thinker. I analyze. I test. Poke & prod. I dissect. Yep, I think a lot.......until I don't think at all. 

Two weeks ago now, I made a pretty damn ignorant decision. I can't specifically lay out the details of my offense, but the following information should clear this up for you.

To anyone in a D/s or DD relationship, regardless of your individual rules or guidelines, we all are pretty screwed if an offense violates one of the 4 D's. Disrespect, Dishonesty, Disobedience or Dangerous. 

An overachiever, I chose to combine all 4 of them resulting in nothing short of outright DEFIANCE. 

It wasn't at all my intent to be defiant. I had altruistic intentions of "fixing" a bad situation. The problem is my thinking was off.....WAY off. Professor had told me "NO".....more than once. I understand now that his "NO" was appropriate. But at the time, I thought he was being overprotective and that he doubted my ability to "fix" this. I hate even writing this, but it is the truth, when I made the decision I made I had just decided that I knew better than he did. 

So a few days from the last discussion and firm "No." I waited until Professor was less available and further geographically from the situation. I had made up my mind. I was right and I was just going to have to show him how right I was. 

My "plan" didn't unfold as I had anticipated. That pissed me off enough but knowing I would have to tell Professor what I had done, was worse. I expected a lecture. I expected an entry on my punishment list. I expected he would be irritated. I *never* expected what I got.

What I did was extremely dangerous.....check.

The choice I made was disobedient, he had told me "NO" more than once........check.

I did this behind his back and kept him in the dark, so by omission I was dishonest.......check.

Explicit details or not, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how this was disrespectful.

Funny thing, in all of the pre-game thinking I had done; I didn't consider any of this. **sighs**

Professor returned a day after I had attempted my plan. He called to check in on me and I told him what I had done. The silence was deafening. I almost thought the call had dropped. 

"Are you serious?" 

Those three words weren't what turned my stomach; it was his tone of voice. 

I very quickly tried to point out how if my plan had only gone as I wanted then I could of maybe been right. 

He pointed out the small fact that if my plan had gone off much worse then it wouldn't have mattered.....right and wrong don't mean a thing in DEAD!

I have been Professor's girl for 9 or 10 months now. I have become very accustomed to certain of those things is my expectation of his reactions. Professor is very strict but he is reasonable. Firm but caring. I have irritated him. I have disappointed him. I have tested his patience. One thing I have *not* done was infuriate the man.....until now.

That fact alone scared me because Professor has to be one of the most mild-tempered men I know. His responses are always well thought out, measured, calculated. He does not yell at me; he will raise his voice on occasion to emphasize a point and while it makes me jump every time he does it......his quiet worries me more. 

I tried to explain the decision I made. I tried to excuse the fact that I'd been disobedient by pointing out the fact that I felt I took precautions. I tried to justify my ignorance. I talked pretty fast for about 90 seconds until he stopped me.

"It is taking every ounce of self-restraint I have to not hang up this damn phone and not talk to you again for a week." 

I was almost speechless. He has never ignored me.....ever. I've not ever experienced anger from him. As I said, he hardly has a temper but apparently endangering his girl, behind his back and against his mandate is a very quick way to find his temper. He lectured and he was not at all open to hearing a peep out of me. He pointed out the seriousness of what I had done and a dozen possible outcomes for the choices I had made (none of them on board with my original master plan). 

As I listened to him, it started to dawn on me what I had truly done. What that decision could have meant. What a slap in his face my choice had been. And it hurt a lot. I apologized.....I was sorry.....very sorry.....and scared. 

Would he really ignore me? Were we going to be okay? How could I be so stupid? Will I be able to fix this? 

In 9 months, with all I have done wrong and every button I have pushed, I have not ever made Professor angry like this. He was disappointed but he was so incredibly angry. By the end of our phone call, I was crying. We spoke about it over the next several days but it was nowhere near resolved. Days later he was still furious and I was still upset knowing I had caused that anger. I stressed and tried to behave. With the chaos surrounding the situation, Professor continued to reassure and support me.....even though I didn't deserve it. We had a couple 'casual' chats about other things but it was painfully obvious that there was still this HUGE issue in between the two of us.....and I hated that. 

Just this last Wednesday, Professor and I spent the afternoon together and "discussed" the situation. That is an entirely separate post...............

Friday, October 19, 2012

Still Processing

A lot has happened lately.....a lot. 

I did have a session with Professor this week.

But again, it was not a fun role play. It was punishment. An absolutely ignorant decision on my part and a punishment to match that intensity. As difficult as it was physically, that pales in comparison to the emotional impact. 

I am still processing and analyzing and dissecting this one, so it will be a bit before you have the literary version to wade through. 

This was hard. I know I did it to myself and I know as hard as it was, it could have been much worse. But that aside, this was incredibly hard for me and I need a little time before I open up to anyone (aside from Professor and Suzi) about it.

I have so much to say and many other posts left half composed as I have dealt with the last few weeks of moving and all that entails, but I promise I will start wrapping some of it up and sharing the new stuff in the next few days.

Monday, October 8, 2012

No Spanking??? WTF??


Hooray, no spankings.....right??


A girlfriend of mine and I have been planning a role play scene with Professor and it got rescheduled at the last minute. 

I know, I know.....most naughty girls would be jumping for joy if a spanking got put off.

If I were actually in serious trouble, I might not mind it being delayed. But this so very seriously ticked me off. 

The last week has been full of chaos and because of that chaos, I had been hurt.....a little bit. I insisted I was fine but Professor disagreed......and I believe we have covered multiple times on this blog which of us makes the final decision in things......and it aint me. :(

So I got a little angry and protested. I assured him that I was fine, just a couple bumps and bruises, totally fine to be spanked. 

Then I pointed out the obvious that my bottom wasn't injured.....only my head so we could continue as planned. 

When that didn't work to sway his opinion then I decided I'd pout and whine.....anyone remember how my Professor feels about whining?? 

He told me to stop my whining.....which made me feel like sulking even more and I figured since he was intent on NOT spanking me, then I would be safe to throw a little temper tantrum like a pissed off child and see how far that tactic would get me. If you're wondering......not far. 

His mind was made up and nothing I could say was going to change it. I was kinda pissy about it for a while. I didn't like the idea that this chaos was now controlling my life and plans. I also had *really* been looking forward to this role play session. For a few reasons. 

Number one, I've not yet played with another girl with Professor and I knew we would all have a great time.....even if two of us would be leaving with sore bottoms. :) 

Number two, with all of the current stress and chaos, I *really* needed to see Professor. Just being able to take an afternoon off from my 'real life' and spending several hours with my Dom makes me feel completely rebalanced, calm and focused. My stress melts away and my mood is instantaneously lifted when I am with him. 

Number three, I've not yet role played with Professor at all! I have been his girl since February and we have discussed role playing a few times but because of the distance, schedules, etc each time we are planning to get together for a session, I have amassed enough naughty entries on my Punishment List that it has to be a punishment session. So I was *really* looking forward to this play date. 

Call me crazy but getting a good, hard spanking but *not* having to deal with the emotional turmoil & disappointment associated with a true punishment sounds like a pretty darn good way to spend an afternoon. :) 

Professor understood my discontent but he had very little tolerance for my whining or throwing a fit about it. Oh and he particularly didn't care for the, "Fine! Whatever, reschedule the damn thing. I don't care. You're the freaking boss remember? HARD HEAD!" Yeah, maybe not the smartest thing I've said recently. My mouth ended up getting me a few new entries to my PL to be addressed later on......Professor was understanding and didn't even insist on the entries, I did after realizing how sassy I had been when I spoke to him. 

Just when I was at my poutiest, sulkiest, nobody loves me in the whole wide worldiest........Professor called and said he wanted to have lunch. He explained that with me physically injured, spanking me would be no fun at all for him and he wasn't going to change his mind BUT he wanted to see me. He had been worried about me throughout this entire ordeal and had felt helpless being unable to do anything to protect me. He wouldn't spank me right now and risk hurting me any more than I already had been because he wanted to know that his little girl was indeed okay before we played at all. He needed to see me in person to know that I really was okay. I'd told him via phone and email that I was "just fine" but I suppose that response didn't inspire confidence. :)  So we planned to meet for lunch on Wednesday afternoon. 

He arrived before I did and was waiting at the door for me when I got to the restaurant. Seeing his smile as I walked to him immediately improved my mood. I couldn't get to him quick enough. He held the door for me and after walking in he grabbed me by the shoulders and held me at arms length as he examined my bruises and boo boos. His dark brown eyes returned to meet with mine after giving me a once over....twice....and he watched me closely as he asked once again, "Are you okay?" I smiled up at him, hoping to reassure him as I answered, "Yes Sir, I am alright." His eyes narrowed at mine as he studied my face for a moment before finally pulling me tightly into him for a hug. I closed my eyes as I rested my head to his chest and hugged him tight, feeling the stress of the week dissipate and melt away. Even Professor's hugs are dominant  :)  His strong arms over mine and securely wrapped around my body, pulling me into him and my arms tucked under his and around his waist as my head rests against his chest. 

We had a nice lunch and spent an hour or so talking about all of our typical topics of discussion: work, kids, partners, Patriots, naughty know, the usual stuff :)  He explained to me why it is he can cook since its something I always give him a hard time for. :) I told him the poor horror story of my 4yr old shaving my only long-haired wiener dog this past week....the poor dog has a reverse mohawk.....just one damn bald stripe right down his back.....he will never live it down at the dog park. :)  Then of course I had to laugh and taunt him just a little bit for his smartphone stupidity. Lol! :)  This amuses me to no end because watching Professor struggle with his new phone, trying to type with his sausage fingers, and watching his frustration build when he can't get the thing to perform even a basic task is highly entertaining to me. Professor is one of the most intelligent people that I know, his intellect is a huge turn on for me, and watching him attempt to get this tiny little device to cooperate is hilarious. Though once he has decided I am healed up, I might get a good spanking for sharing this with you all. :)