Monday, July 28, 2014

In Public

A couple evenings ago, my husband and I met up after work for a concert and dinner downtown. The concert was lovely, if sparsely attended, and, afterward, we went to a local pub and BBQ place. The beer was good, the food was OK, and the music was way too loud for a weekday evening (really, a "club" atmosphere on a Wednesday??)

I was feeling a little tipsy after one beer (that's all it takes these days), so my husband suggested we walk around the park for a while. After a stroll around the square, it was getting dark and late, and I was ready to go home. Since my husband and I had arrived separately, I had to drive home on my own. I felt fine, but I am aware of my lightweight status, so I knew there was a possibility that I was not legally OK to drive.

I was anxious to get home, but my husband insisted on consulting two different apps that calculate blood alcohol level. I was very impatient about it, and we got into an argument. After the results of the second calculator, I turned my back and walked toward my parked car:

"I'm going home," I said, with attitude.

He said my full name, and told me in a stern voice to lose the attitude. He approached me, turned me around to face him, cupped my chin firmly in his hand, and forced me to look up at him.

This was heading in a horrible direction. We were in a public place, and, though it was dark, there was definitely more than one person out walking their dog in that park that could hear us. I was incredibly embarrassed, but I sensed that if I did not take the time to check my attitude, I may be a lot more embarrassed by the time we left the park.

"Give me a minute," I said. I  buried my face in his warm, inviting chest and took several deep breaths to calm down.

And it worked.

I felt so much better. I felt happier, calmer, and ready to cooperate. I looked up again.

"I appreciate your concern for my safety, babe," I said.

After it was determined that I was OK to drive, I got in my car and headed home.

Later that night, my husband said that, had I not dropped my attitude, he would not have hesitated to spank me in public. I still don't know if I believe that, but the threat of it is enough to keep me in line, that's for sure. It was already embarrassing enough being lectured in public!

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Paying The Toll

That will be 30 smacks, ma'am.

Sometimes, when my husband and I pass each other in the hallway between the living room and bedroom, he'll block my way with his arm, and pull me into him.  Then he'll lower my pants and underwear, bend me over his arm and proceed to smack my bottom a dozen or so times.  Then he'll pull my pants back up and I'll be on my way.

He says I have to "pay a toll" to pass through my own hallway!

Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful: The Beautiful

This is the final part of a three part story. To read the first two parts, click here and here.

It was later in the evening. I could tell my husband had made a full recovery in confidence by the way he was acting. He gave stern warnings throughout the evening as to what would happen later.  After dinner, he ordered me into the bedroom. He had me strip down completely and choose three implements. I opened our closet, sat down, and slowly sifted through our bag of implements, choosing carefully, taking my time.

"You're taking too long, young lady. You better move faster," he warned.

I hurried to the bed with a belt, a plastic spatula, and a wooden spoon. He placed them on the bed and ordered me into the corner, where I stood still and contemplated my fate. I guess it's time to reveal now why I felt I deserved this punishment. Occasionally, my husband will give me assignments to complete, especially when he's gone. He gave me a three part assignment to complete by June 15th, and I failed to complete the third and final part. He gave me some leeway, because it did involve having time and energy to complete, but I put it off until the day before he was supposed to come home, and I figured, by that time, there was no point in completing it when I would see him so soon.  Of course, I discussed none of this with him, and came to the conclusion all by myself that it was OK for me not to complete the third part.

He called me over and made me stand still in front of him, looking him in the eye.

"I gave you an extension and you still did not complete that assignment. You thought you could decide for yourself, without discussing with me, that it was OK not to complete it. Well, that's not the case, young lady; you do not put off what I tell you to do and decide for yourself what you will do."

I told him I was sorry.  It was all I could say.  He was right, of course, and anything else sounded like a poor excuse. He talked about our relationship and how seriously we should both be taking it, which made me tear up.  I felt awful--I already wanted this to be over, and it had barely started yet.

He sent me back to the corner for a while longer, and then called me over to the bed to begin my punishment. I crawled over his lap, and he began to spank my bare bottom with his hand.

The contrast in mood between this spanking and my spanking earlier in the day was astounding.  This was the mindset I needed, the preparation I wanted, and the punishment I craved.  This was all serious and no fun. I could tell in the weight of his hand that this was going to push my limits.

He lectured and spanked simultaneously. Sometimes he would pause to say something, while rubbing my bottom, then he would begin anew with harsh smacks. Deciding I was sufficiently warmed up, he reached for the belt, and I cried out as the sting of leather began to assault the sensitive parts of my bottom.

After several dozen smacks with the belt, he transitioned into the plastic spatula, which I sometimes enjoy, but did not today.  It hurt--he was not being light and fun with it.  I squirmed and yelled as the heat and intensity built.

Once my bottom had been roasted by plastic, he moved onto the wooden spoon-a small but mighty instrument with a concentrated sting.  My bottom was really burning at this point.  My breathing was heavy, I fought, squirmed, wailed for his sympathy, and, eventually, gave up fighting and lay there submissively as the smacks continued. This was the most intense punishment spanking I had ever endured from my husband.

It finally ended, and I was back in the corner. I felt lonely there in the corner. I wanted to be in his arms, which I think he sensed, and he came over and embraced me for a long time. I felt enveloped in his warmth and comfort, which made me tear up for the third time that night.

He brought me to the bed, where we made love, although "making love" doesn't do justice to what happened between us. It was as if we became one single being--like we were part of each other with the same thoughts, the same movements, the same breath. I felt as if I had somehow been absorbed by him.

It can only be described as Beautiful.

I've never experienced a connection like this with anyone in my life, and I know that DD has done this for us. DD has created in us a spiritual and emotional bond of selflessness and submission to each other. We fall in love with each other over and over again, each time stronger and more intense than the last.

It is not without its lows.  We often have to navigate through non-fulfilling sessions, bad moments, and disappointed feelings.  But, through careful communication and commitment, come beautiful moments like these, where our relationship transcends to something outside of ourselves.  Through failed attempts come smashing successes, which are appreciated more when we've worked for it.

So, we have the good, the bad, and the beautiful, and I appreciate each and every moment for what it is and what it can teach us about our relationship.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful: The Bad

This post is part two of a three part "reunion" series with my husband.  To read the first part, click here.

Three times in a row is definitely a record for us.  After that, my lady parts were "closed for business," so we then moved on to watching other people have sex and violently kill each other (caught up on Game of Thrones).

Although I was happy and satisfied sexually, I did feel that my punishment had been cut short.  I didn't feel emotionally absolved or renewed, and I was still anxious about what was to come the next day.  There was still a whole list of things that he wouldn't let me read.  As we lay in bed Saturday night, I asked if my punishment was going to be severe with lots of lecturing, implements, and corner time.

He responded with all the right answers, giving me chills and making my stomach flop.  Like I said in my previous post, my husband is very good at building me up and creating expectations for me.  I told him I was nervous.

The next day, after church, we were sitting at home, each doing our own thing.  I decided to put down what I was doing and lay over his lap.  I do this for fun sometimes when I'm in the mood for attention, and I will innocently say, "Oh, how did I end up here?"  He usually complies and gives me attention.  This time, he told me he liked my dress because he could easily lift it up and have access to my bottom.  A rare compliment from  my husband about my fashion choices.

He started rubbing my bottom and then spanking it.  I was enjoying the attention.  All of this was taking place on the living room floor right next to his laptop.  Right in the middle of this sexy, fun spanking, he opened his computer and began going through the list of naughty things I did while he was away.  The list was short, and the major thing on the list--disrespecting him--I had already been sort of punished for.  He half-heartedly lectured me about the other three, not-so-important things on the list, and thus began my "severe" punishment.  No preparation, no face-to-face lecturing, no corner time :(

My heart sank.  This was not at all what I had expected.  What started out as a fun spanking turned into a very anti-climactic punishment spanking, and the worst part was, he had forgotten to put something on the list for which I felt very guilty--something I thought was important.  So, there I was, lying over his lap, feeling horrible because I was in a totally wrong state of mind, being spanked for silly things that I didn't think mattered compared to the other thing he'd forgotten.

He ordered me to go to the bedroom, and I sighed, exasperatingly.  He gave me an incredulous look.

"You're on thin ice," he said.

"Just, stop.  Can we please just stop this?" I asked.  I lay there, not knowing what to say next.  He told me to sit up and look at him.  I was quiet for a bit, but with a little prompting, I was able to articulate what was bothering me.

I told him that I felt really let down, because he had mentioned previously that I was going to be punished for something, and, when it came time for it, he'd either forgotten about it or didn't think it was important.  And I said that when he does such a good job of building me up and setting my expectations, it really disappoints me when the main event is nothing like he said it would be.

I felt awful.  I felt like I had totally shot his confidence, but I needed to say it, because I really was disappointed.  I sat in his lap and we hugged and talked.  It turns out he did forget to put the thing on the list, but the real problem was that we had a difference of opinion as to how important it was.  I thought it was a major thing, right up there with disrespect, and he thought it was better categorized with forgetting to call him Sir during punishments.

We talked about how important managing expectations are, and I told him he should not tease me when it comes to punishment unless he plans to follow through.  When he builds me up and makes threats about what will happen, I come to expect those things to happen, and, when they don't it's a huge let-down.

We also talked about setting up for punishment--we agreed that it was important to keep fun spankings and punishment spankings separate, and that a fun spanking should not transition into a punishment spanking, because it does not allow for preparation or proper mindset.

I think he saw my side of things, but, at this point, there was no use in continuing where we left off.  I could tell that he was sad and upset.  I know I had bruised his ego.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" he asked.

"I want you to pull yourself up by the bootstraps and give me a real punishment later," I said.

To be continued...

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful: The Good

There were three separate episodes that occurred between my husband and me this weekend, about which I want to write.  For length's sake, I'm going to separate them into three different posts.  I'm obviously excited to share the good and the beautiful stories with you, but I feel obligated to share the bad one, too, since I want my readers to understand that this lifestyle is not always easy for us, and that it doesn't all come "naturally."  I know everyone who practices DD struggles with it at times, but I know that I often want to gloss over the bad parts or the struggles and write about the things that worked (I suspect there are others who do this too).  My hopes in blogging about this lifestyle were, originally, to document every aspect of it, good and bad, so I want to share it all.  But I will start with the good, since, overall, it really was an amazing weekend.

First of all, my husband is home!!!!!  He was gone for a month this time, taking a class for the army.  I kept pretty busy while he was gone, but I still missed him immensely.  And although I would prefer we were always together, sometimes I think that it's good for us to be apart.  The passion and physical attraction we feel for each other after time spent apart is beyond anything I've ever experienced, even during the "puppy love" phase of our relationship.

My husband is good at building me up--setting my expectations.  He's good at teasing me.  The threat of a spanking, a punishment, or a lecture from him sends shivers down my spine and butterflies into my stomach. On the car ride home from the airport, I was practically panting at the steering wheel, trying to maintain my composure while various promises and threats came at me from the handsome man in the passenger seat.

As soon as we arrived home, we dropped all the luggage on the floor and embraced.  It felt so good to be in his arms again after a month away from them.  We both knew we had to be intimate right away--there was no putting off this craving for each others' attention.  The only conundrum was what kind of intimacy we should start with.  My husband kept a list of my misdeeds while he was gone, so there was no question about whether I needed to be punished; the question was when it should be.

"Do I need to punish you now or can it wait till later?" he asked.  "This is my way of asking you what you want right now."

"I guess we should do it now and get it over with," I said.  Then we can get to the good part, I thought to myself.

"To the bedroom, young lady," he replied.  "And strip down."

I made my way to the bedroom, stripped down, and waited for him to follow me in.  He had promised a couple of weeks ago that my punishments would not happen all at once.  I knew they would be spread out over the weekend/week, so I wondered what I would be punished for today.  And I wondered if it was going to be the "big one"--the long one with many implements, severe lectures, and corner time that he promised me during the car ride home.  I was hoping it wouldn't be--I wanted to hurry up and get to the good part :)

It was for disrespect.

During my week of "that time of the month," I was apparently very disrespectful in our nightly phone conversations--I got defensive often, argued a lot, snapped at him, became exasperated, etc...  I would say respect is the top priority in our relationship.  Our entire DD lifestyle is built on the fact that we trust and respect each other, so when I disrespect him in any way, it undermines the foundation of our relationship.

I lay naked over his lap, listening to his lecture on respect as he rubbed my bottom.  Then he began spanking me with his hand.  Hard.  My butt was out of practice.  The whole time he spanked me, I just wanted it to be over.  I wanted him so much, and, as he spanked me, I would intermittently squeeze his hand, rub his back, and hug his knee.  He sensed my desire for it to be over (he later told me that he also wanted to "get to the good part") and, before I even got into the "space," he flipped me over and made love to me. Three times.

To be continued...