Category Archive: sulking

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The Script

By Poppy | 12/11/2011 - 6:07 am | strength, submission by any other name, sulking 10 Comments

You know just how it is. You spend twenty minutes building up the courage to admit something to him. You stutter it out and then have to repeat yourself because you were so unclear the first time.

Then you wait. You have butterflies in your tummy and a little tiny shake all over and you make yourself still as a still thing and wait for him to draw breath and cast sentence.

He will no doubt give you a withering glare (imagine Captain von Trapp) and then launch into a telling off (think Captain Picard crossed with Snape) until he finishes off with an evil punishment that makes your eyes cross with his imagination and sadism.

Except that does not happen.

He thanks you for telling him and for being honest. You wait. He asks how you are. You say ok. He asks about your day. You move on but feel a little perturbed. You keep waiting for the hand to drop. It doesn’t.

You pootle off and do the rest of your day.

This is what I have learned.

The world has not read the script in my head. It always surprises and annoys me when people (not just Dexter) deviate from the words I set aside for them. I feel cheated and put upon, as though they do it to spite. I know this is illogical. But it is only writing it here for you that I see it as clearly as it is. When people do not behave as one expects it can be confusing to the point of feeling hurtful.

I am starting to think that people saying their own words instead of mine might be a good thing. Today I had this very experience and I was thrown by it. I spent half an hour having a little strop in my head. And then I laughed.

I relaxed.

I have a great fear of being wrong in my desires, that I shall say something and someone will say, “Sorry… what was that? You want … get away from me, freaky pervert woman.” So very often I plan very carefully what I say and sometimes I do not say what I mean at all. I say the thing designed to get the other person to say or act in the way that I require. It all gets a bit complicated. I get tired and tie myself in knots because I can’t trust anything.

Today I said what I had done and how I felt about it. I did not get the response I expected. But I am still going to get spanked for something at some point. I will still get told off one day soon. I will still sulk because he will not let me get my way at some inconvenient moment. All of these will come from his mind and not mine. They are not on my script. They are real. I have had no part in their creation.

I am set free. I cannot dictate what will happen. I am not in charge.

I am starting to demand a bit more of myself, more honesty and a new type of submission. I can’t describe the submission yet, it is still too new. I look forward to exploring it and I trust it will be accepted.

I do not know what will happen next but I think it will be good.

This makes me so happy that I wish I could kiss the whole universe.

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Kakorrhaphiophobia

It's Good For What Ails You

Fantasy Monday- Waiting

Goodnight

Tagged submission

Poppy’s guide To dealing With Ill Girls*

By Poppy | 08/11/2011 - 6:06 am | control, desire, power, sulking 11 Comments

*This may just be a guide to me when I am ill. I have no idea how widespread this type of being ill is.

When I was little I used to love a book called “The Magic Faraway Tree” by Enid Blyton. This was a beautiful, magical tree in the middle of a forest and at it’s top was a door to other lands. Small adventurers would climb the tree and have an amazing time in new places every chapter. One of these was the Topsy Turvy Land. This was a place where everything was the opposite of what it should be. Pudding was the first part of a meal, the police did the crimes and so on and so forth.

Topsy Turvy land is pretty much where I live when I am ill.

At first I get rushes of energy when I should be resting. I lose the ability to sleep even though sleep is all I need. This leads to me saying sensible and thoughtful things at 2 am in emails. Things I might mean but maybe do not have to express quite so strongly at that unhelpful hour.

From then on in I am an attractive imbalance of stroppy and weepy. I am restless with desire, physical and emotional. I want hard lines and the kind of erotic interlude that involves very little in the way of requests or whispered nothings. I just want to be taken and used (by the one man that can do such a thing.) I dream of being bent over and taken by him, his hand in my hair, his hardness deep in me, with little prelude and no consideration of how I feel.

I long to be restrained.

I am ill I need to be bossed about (not shouted at), told off, spanked and made to be good. I am much easier at this time than normal. I think my defences are with my immune system and both being otherwise engaged I can be brought to submission more quickly and more effectively than normal.

I am constantly on the verge of tears and so desperate to be sorted out that I become a girl that even a starter Top could sort me out.

The only problem is that it is almost impossible for a lovely man to treat an ill girl like that.

Buggeration.

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Advent Day 18: Scold (Softly) Don't Spank

Doesn't This Just Break Your Heart?

The Door

The Moment When ...

Tagged submission

The Girl In The Picture- She said.

By Poppy | 18/07/2010 - 12:50 pm | Devlin O Neill's site, shame, strict Tops, sulking 7 Comments

Himself sent me this picture (from Firm Hand Spanking- why is he looking there?) and said that … well you can read what he said here.

At first I said that was all silly and refused to look at it, but then I slunk back and peeked.

She really does look a lot like me. My face is not that long but my hair does wave like that and her eyes, nose and my mouth, they are me to a tee. It has taken me ages to admit that I can see myself in her but I will not say that I pout because she is not pouting. She is simply in need of a cuddle and how anyone can not see that is a mystery to me.

I would not ever pass over an implement. I could not do that, I would be too shy and too overwhelmed. I would like to be that sort of girl but I am not. I cannot do it.

Two weeks today I will be with Himself. Bit by bit I am travelling there now. My skin is changing, my awareness of my body is building and sometimes I think of him and catch my breath with wanting and with desire.

But then I think of this picture and that face. I think of the moment when I look just like that, in the moment when I can’t alter what he will do, the moment when I feel small and scared and a little sulky. I am scared of that moment. I am scared of that moment because it is real, I feel it so deep inside me. I can’t believe how close it is and how much I need to be in it.

I don’t understand any of this.

I think I need a cuddle now.

Soon.

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This is not my fault

Good Day, Bad Day, Great Day

Knowing Our Bodies

Advent Blog Day 3: Anticipation

Wednesday’s Child

By Poppy | 03/07/2010 - 2:00 am | love, submission by any other name, sulking 10 Comments

Wednesday Night

I am writing this tonight like this, with total honesty even though it is a bit of a down post because I have every confidence that by Friday (when this will go up) Himself will have made everything better. although right now, I cannot see how he possibly could. It is scary to write it.
I know we don’t live together and I know those of you who do might read this say that I have it easy as regards this problem I face now. But I feel like talking about it and it feels the opposite to easy. It feels awful and horrid.

My work ebbs and flows, like most jobs. My life is easy and then hard. Right now everything is hard. I love my job and I am enjoying it but it is very hard going at the moment and because I am so busy at work I do not have the time for home and things are getting messy in all kinds of ways.

I find I am so, so tired and I can’t sleep.
On Friday I am hosting a dinner party, I am so tired and useless I think I am going to buy a peppercorn sauce and make steak. Buying a sauce for a dinner party; even typing it horrifies me.

I could cry, but not about the sauce; it is everything piling up and feeling messy and impossible and I am all stuck.

I want to curl up with Himself and I want him to read to me. I want to fall asleep while he watches and feel safe.

But because I have to be so in charge and I am so busy, I cannot let him do any of these things. I am going to speak to him in twenty minutes and he is going to tell me off. I do not have the slightest glimmer of submission. I want to ignore him. I could tell him I have work to do (which is true) and we cannot talk. I don’t want to talk.

I don’t want to have this made any better.
I want it all to better.

I am totally stuck. I am terrified that when I cannot find any submission in me then we will be at odds. I am scared he won’t be able to solve me. I feel like a four-year-old sat sulking on the stairs.

I feel like I am far too grown up and cannot find my way home.

I hate this.

Friday.

I am writing this on Friday afternoon. I am smiling and happy and about to have a nap.
I don’t know why I fight him so hard on these things. I know that I find the dichotomy of work and home very difficult and not living with him makes it worse.

He is so calm and patient that I find that I push him away for longer sometimes waiting for the time when he will say, “Enough” which he did today and last night. The moment he said it I felt my eyes drop. I know all this is tied to something about me, something about how I grew up and learned about love and myself.

But I do not think I am going to try to analyse it. I think I am going to watch it change, very gently, and not worry about it too much. Being loved is scary and it does not do to think about it too much.

I know if I were with him he would have spanked me horribly right when it started. But even without touching me he can make me feel his authority. I feel so much calmer when I feel that.

I think I am just the kind of girl who needs that kind of thing. It is who I am.

I am happy and loved.
Tonight my friends will come over and I will serve them delicious food and if they do not like the sauce I bought I will show them the kitchen. But I am starting with champagne and then jugs of Pimms. I think it will all work out.

I wish, wish, wish I could make you feel how happy he makes me.

I hope you are happy too.

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The Door

The Rule Must Be Broken

Life Under A Big Top: Scolded

Goodnight

My Day Today

By Poppy | 14/06/2010 - 6:46 pm | sulking, tantrums 8 Comments

Here is my day today with illustrations by Hawtness.com I had a lovely breakfast. I admit that my weetabix was not as scrummy as waffles (I have never had a waffle) but it was a lot more healthy.

Either way it started well. I was a happy thing this morning. Ish.

Then it went wrong. I have a senior position at work (not crazy senior but just a bit) and I had one of those days when lots of people wanted me to solve their problems and then just watched me. I worked my bottom off.
I bet you can guess this one. I bent over backwards to please everyone. It worked.

I was tired and a bit fed up but by lunch time I had solved all those problems and a few more. I was feeling pretty good about myself.
I had lunch with my friends and we laughed and told each other about our weekends and were able to be abrupt and unprofessional with one another.
It was very good.

I had a lovely afternoon for a bit but then had the longest meeting ever and I had someone very dull and silly to my right and I had to keep facing the other way to keep from telling him that he was a buffoon. “Steve, you are a buffoon.” That felt very good. I bet I delete it in a bit.

I drove home but almost everyone else had already gone. I know this is a lose link to the picture but I don’t care. The picture makes me smile.

All the way home I thought about a glass of wine. I would do a lot for a glass of wine now.

Tonight I plan to make a robot to be me tomorrow.
I am going to stay at home and play. I am going to pretend the world is just how I want it to be.

I would like a cuddle. A big, strong, long cuddle is what I would like. That was not from Hawtness but I don’t care.
I am going to sit here and sulk until I get one.