Last night, I was a very bad girl and essentially broke three of the negotiated rules I had with Craftsmate. Since we have been attempting to shift our dynamic from a bedroom kinky arrangement to a full-on D/s partnership, I understand why such rules are important and, in theory, I want to be able to follow them.

Overall, I have liked the changes we have made in shifting our dynamic this way. I enjoy the feeling of being owned. I love being able to shed my bratty side – which was mostly in place to provoke what I wanted out of dominants instead of asking for it like a good girl because of some unresolved shame over being able to just own up to what I liked – and instead be an obedient submissive who asks for what she wants. It’s helped to reinforce our dynamic as we plan to become long distance.

Also, it’s made sex and our chemistry a whole lot hotter, as well as somehow sweeter and more intimate.

However, I’ve discovered that what gets to me most is the way I am punished when I misbehave. It’s completely nonsexual and literally intended for correction and not foreplay. It’s something I’ve backed away from in the past or gotten unnecessarily emotional over because it scared me in its seriousness. Stuff feels a lot less like a game that way.

So, as I mentioned, I am being punished and part of that punishment is to write about it. I was punished like this one other time about a week ago and, while I initially balked at it, I accepted it and actually found it to be a good experience. I had intended to write about it, but I dropped the ball on that (oops).

But, today, as part of my punishment, I have to share the fact that I am being disciplined and why with you all. Naturally, I’m a little nervous – hence the long, rambling introduction – so bear with me here.

The why is because of, as I mentioned, three things:

1. I completely neglected to call Craftsmate “Sir” on more instances than a gentle reminder would warrant. 
2. I stayed up an hour and a half past my bedtime for no real reason and, while I eventually got involved in talking to someone, this wasn’t until about half an hour past my bedtime and I did not reach out to Craftsmate in order to ask if I could stay up. 
3. I drank alcohol without permission in a situation where I could have asked him first. (As a rule, I’m supposed to ask unless I’m in a situation where it’s not socially convenient to just whip out my phone.

And my punishment is as follows:

1. I had to share the details with all of you as to why I was bad last night. (Done.)
2. From now on, I have to refer to Craftsmate on this blog as “Sir” to get me into the habit of addressing him properly. (Which is preferable, since I cannot stand that nickname I gave him. The “Craftsmate” tag will still exist but I won’t directly refer to him that way in posts. I’m also adding a “Sir” tag to old posts about him.)

So, there you have it. I want to try to write about the other time he punished me because it was actually super sweet and rewarding, so expect that soon. But in the meantime I kind of have to handle some latent shame stuff from having to share this and worrying I’ll be kind of judged for it.