Submission Day

After BabyMan and I spent an hour in the gym Saturday morning, we came back for what I thought would be a relaxing day at home. But when I emerged from the shower, BabyMan says something that stops me cold and drops my jaw to the floor. "Sugar," he says, "I want you to girl up. We're going to have a submission day."

I stare at him for a moment, blink a couple of times. "Would you repeat that please?"

"Today is Submission Day. We're going out to do some shopping and then to lunch and a movie.  And we're going to dedicate the entire day to working on your submission."

I don't know whether to laugh or look around for something to throw at him. "And what's wrong with the way I submit?"

"Needs... refining." He had a no nonsense look on his face that I couldn't quite read. Was this a joke?  He walked over to the wall where we keep the leather paddle hanging on a hook, grabbed it and said, "I want you to girl up," (a term he coined meaning to wear something feminine, do the hair, make-up, etc.) "and meet me in the den."

Now, if you've read this blog at all, you know that the words "meet me in the den" mean that I'm going to wind up over his knee for one thing or another. At this point my jaw is still on the floor as I watch him walk out of the room. I want to argue, I want to demand answers, I need an explanation. I haven't done anything wrong!

Think, Sugar, think! He thinks your submission is below standard... to argue now is not the best idea at the moment. Just do what he tells you and find out what this is all about later.

I picked a form fitting sweater and a tight linen skirt, applied eyeliner, lipstick, and a spritz of the perfume he gave me for Christmas. I walked into the den to find him sitting on the couch with a pillow on his knees, something he usually does to make my behind rise higher over his lap. Now I'm beginning to get nervous.

"There's a paper on the printer," he said. "Take it off, lay over my knees and read it to me."

I bit my lip as I felt my forehead wrinkle. What could I have possibly done to...?

"Now, SugarAnne. This is about submission. Don't hesitate." He smiled. "Oh, and by the way, take off your panties. You won't be needing them."

I won't be needing them? What does that mean? What the hell is he up to?

I peeled my panties down my legs and stepped out of them, grabbed the paper off the printer and placed myself over the pillow. Once I was settled in and BabyMan had lifted my skirt to my waist, I began to read aloud.

The paper was titled Submission Day Guidelines. It was a list of how I am to conduct myself in a submissive manner to his specifications during our day out together. the first section was the requirements for what I was to wear for the day. I am to be girled up, wearing a skirt, feminine blouse, no panties... I turned to look at him. "Are you kidding? No panties? All day? Out in public?" I squealed.

He slapped my bare behind hard with the paddle. "Keep reading!"

I turned back to the paper. The second section were his expectations of how I am to conduct myself when we are in the position of standing in line at a store or restaurant. I am to stand behind him with my arms around his waist, and If I desire to be released to go off on my own, I am to ask permission by whispering in his ear. He will either release me or turn down my request. otherwise I am to stay connected to him at all times by either holding his hand or hooking my finger through his belt loop while we are standing or on the move.

When ordering in a restaurant, I am to make my selection, tell him, and he will order for me.  I am to allow him to open all doors for me including the car door. When going up stairs, I am to be in front of him and behind him when descending stairs for my protection against falling. I am to wait for him to pull out my chair, and when I stand to go to the ladies room he will stand in reverence and respect to my femininity (I like that part).  Wow, this is kind of cool.  It's almost like stepping back into the 50's, but I'm not wearing any panties!

After I read the entire list, he explained that for each infraction I would receive five strokes with the bath brush, or as he affectionately calls it, "the heatstroke".

The day was to be an exercise in submission, self control, and appreciation of my freedom. And really, how difficult could it be? The hardest part should be making sure my short skirt doesn't ride up on me and show my bare ass to the world.

Well, the day was a little frustrating for me. I tried hard to make sure I remembered each requirement, and act according to the guidelines, but I dropped the ball several times during the day. We went to a store where we picked out four skirts together (he wanted to make sure I had enough regulation skirts for upcoming submission days) we ran a few errands, then went to lunch where I made my first infraction. I opened my own door to go into the restaurant, and that's when he informed me that I had just earned 5 strokes. He had said it with such good humor and affection that I found it hard to believe that he would actually spank me with my second most feared implement (the belt being my first) over something so minor. I mean, this was still really a game, right?

At one point while standing on an escalator with BabyMan behind me, he used the umbrella we brought with us to lift my skirt from behind while there was a man within viewing distance. I instinctively slapped it away and snapped, "Stop it!" This is when I was informed that I have to accept and welcome any way he chooses to touch me regardless of who may or may not be in the vicinity, or what I may or may not be wearing. He didn't add five more strokes because he added that rule off the top of his head, which he reserves the right to do. I was mortified... and a little turned on.

We had such a great day, wandering around an outdoor mall before a 5:00 showing of Date Night. Unfortunately I blew it 3 more times, rushing in front of him on the way down a flight of stairs, drifting away from him to look at items in a store without his permission, and opening my own door again in a book store. I almost made another mistake when I planned on leaving the movie theater to get more butter on my popcorn, when he stopped me and informed me that not only am I to ask permission to leave him, but serving my needs was his job, and I was to ask him to do it for me (I like that part, too).

There was something about the whole idea of being totally submissive to his will and desires that I have to admit, excites me a little. BabyMan has always given me a freedom of which I've heard other women express an envy, and I've always appreciated that I'm not micro-managed, or given the third degree about my whereabouts and activities.  This Submission Day exercise was a complete turn around to what I'm used to. In a strange way, I liked it... even though I suck at it.

When we arrived home, I was relaxed and comfortable until he told me to get the heatstroke and the paddle. I was going to get my fun, slap and tickle spanking that I love so much, but I also had 25 painful strokes coming to me from that damned bath brush.  Okay, so this wasn't a game any more.

I don't know why I hadn't taken him seriously all day, but it was time to pay the piper. I'm assuming that Submission Day will be a tradition in our marriage from now on, and it looks like I have a lot of work to do in order to avoid the consequences. These guidelines don't seem really difficult to the naturally submissive type, but that's not me. It never has been. 

But I have a feeling...It will be.