A Noteworthy Distraction

Reading for class.

"You look distracted. Come here, young lady."

I'm supposed to be reading for grad school. Instead, I'm on my phone scrolling through social media apps, Whatsapp, and various other applications that require fewer brain cells than it takes to read psychology journals.

He sits down in the middle of the couch and grabs my hand. He pulls me from my perch on the end, and tosses me over his lap before I can let loose my list of woes about the monotony of grad school work and the necessity of taking breaks. Instead, I'm facedown in light blue microfiber, contemplating the irony of being spanked (itself, a distraction) for being distracted. How am I supposed to get any reading done like this?!

He starts spanking me. It's very light, and it's making me squirmy, cause he's mostly just scolding me a lot for being distracted from my homework. He pulls down my pants and underwear and gives me dozens of smacks on my bare bottom, scolding me the entire time about how, if I don't get all this reading done before my class, I'll get it even worse--but only after I finish all my reading.

Then he stops and inspects my bottom. He lightly touches and comments on bruises that are still there from playing a few days ago. Then he asks me questions that I'm very grateful only require a "yes sir" and not coherent sentences. And then he lets me up.

At which point, my brain is supposed to be working well enough to read scientific journals?? This has been a most inconvenient distraction for my rational grad school brain.

But not un-welcomed.

Teamwork

Not my husband

My husband spent all day today installing a new water heater. I really admire that--a professional probably could have done it in a couple of hours, but my husband often insists on taking a whole weekend (and multiple trips to Home Depot) to teach himself how to do a home project.

I helped...a little.

I actually did help him move the water heater into the correct spot for installation, and, let me tell you, those things are damn heavy. The guys who delivered it to our house wore back braces when they brought it into the basement--I guess I should have taken the hint.

In order to get it from the bottom of the basement stairwell to the corner for installation, we had to slide it on a piece of cardboard. Except, cardboard doesn't slide on concrete flooring when there's a 300 lb cylinder on top of it. So we had to spin the water heater round and round, in the general direction of the corner, until it finally ended up where it should be. I wish someone had video recorded the whole thing. We were both bear hugging a 50 gallon metal drum, spinning it around like a flying saucer, across the basement floor.

I should mention that he asked me to help him with this at 11:30 pm--just as I was trying to wind down for the night. I complained and whined that I didn't want to help him when it was so late...but I begrudgingly did. I planned on climbing into bed as soon as we were done moving the damn thing, but, after it was in place, he came around from the other side of the tank, yanked my sweatpants and underwear down, and started smacking my bottom. It echoed loudly in our unfinished, concrete basement.

"Ow! Is this what happens to young ladies who help you move stuff?" I asked.

"No, this is what happens when I ask you to do something, and you double the time it takes by whining and complaining about it first" he said. "You should just do it." He pushed me against the cold, cinder block basement wall and smacked away at my poor bottom.

"Now, you won't whine and complain again, will you?" he asked.

"No, sir," I said, grinning. He laughed.

"Yeah, right," he said.

Then he hugged me, praised our teamwork, and told me to pull up my pants and get upstairs into bed.

But, alas, bedtime was put on hold for another hour.

All in the name of teamwork, I suppose ;)

Creative Poses

There's a certain time of month when I can't get enough spanking and discipline (kinda the opposite of that time of month). I'm insatiable, and I know that's a lot to ask of anyone, let alone someone who often sees spanking me as more of a chore-like form of foreplay than an exciting main event.

But, with the proper bad attitude, I usually get some of what I crave :)

.  .  .

I was over his lap recently for one of these much-craved discipline sessions. It was light-hearted. He wasn't spanking too hard. I was being smart and witty. Then, he started doing this thing where he scratches my red bottom with his fingernails, and I couldn't stand it. It's not that it overly hurt--it was just...too much sensation. I was overstimulated, and it made me feel nauseous.

I told him I didn't like it, and to "pleeeeaaase stop."

He kept going, so I wriggled around, attempting to roll off his lap.

He pulled me back and did it again, so I reached back and pushed his hand up forcefully. I'm not quite sure what happened--you'll have to get his version of events--but I may or may not have hit his face with our hands.

Before I could say anything, I was being pinned down as hard, fast smacks rained down on my "overstimulated" bottom. I attempted to lunge forward off his lap. He held me fast, not letting me get a word in edgewise with all the spanking.

"Do you want to try a move like that again, young lady?" he asked in his most HOH-y voice.

"No, sir. I'm really sorry," I said.

"Yes. Yes, you are sorry," he said, and he continued to lay into my poor bottom with hard, bruising smacks, until I was thoroughly chastised, and he rolled me off his lap and ordered me to lay on my stomach.

He reached for his phone, and he spent the next 5-10 minutes ordering me into different poses so he could take pictures of my bright red bottom. My husband studied photography professionally for a while, so these weren't your run-of-the-mill erotic photos. He ordered me into many creative poses so he could get "mysterious" shots and "artistic" shots. 

Then he laid on his back and swung me up and over, straddling so that my bottom was facing him--yet another creative. We made love in this position while he got even more "creative" with his fingers, in previously uncharted territory...

I'm Interested

"You're not interested in me, and it sucks. I hate it."

My husband said that to me several nights ago. It caught me off guard. I had no idea he felt that way, and I had no idea that I'd seemed uninterested or that I'd forgotten about important things going on in his life.

Sometimes, I can be self-involved. OK, more than some times. I'm constantly thinking about the things going on in my life and what I have coming up and what I need to do to prepare for future engagements, etc, etc, etc... I'm so caught up in what I have going on, that I apparently forgot to express any interest whatsoever in my husband's life.

It's a failing, and it's definitely something I want to improve immediately. But, the other night, I was so caught off guard and so surprised, that I did the stupid thing and bottled up all of my hurt and all of my emotions surrounding the topic.

In short, I misunderstood what he wanted from me. But, instead of talking to him about it (too easy, right?), I instead shut myself off. For more than 24 hours, I stopped talking as much, I stopped being affectionate, I stopped smiling and laughing. I constantly checked myself and second guessed my words. It sounds overly dramatic, but it was the first time in our relationship when I felt that I couldn't be myself around my husband. The stress and frustration with myself consumed me, and it made me physically ill.

It went on like this for a day or so, and then my husband came in the bedroom as I was going to bed one night and wouldn't leave until I told him what was going on. It took probably an hour, but he ended up staying and comforting me through the ugliest, most hysterical breakdown I've had in recent memory.

Thankfully, the emotional crisis was short-lived, and I can laugh about it now. But I have not forgotten that I need to make a change, and, today, I have plenty of ideas for how I can show more interest in my husband's life. I feel confident and sure of myself, but a few days ago, I felt so awful that I had disappointed him. I felt like the horrible wife who only thinks about herself and forgets all about her husband's hopes and dreams. But I didn't want to tell him that I felt awful, because that was yet another thing about me. Does that make sense?

I sense that we may not be the only couple that has this problem. Even if we live with the people we love, we still have different jobs, different friends, and different goals for our individual lives. It's rather easy to just focus on our own things, write our own to-do lists, and forget to ask each other what the heck is going on. Except my husband, wonderful man that he is, does not forget to ask about me. I'm not saying he's never forgetful, but he asks for details, and he always shows an interest in my often mundane life.

I am interested in my husband's life, and it took a lot of frustration and hurt for me to realize that I wasn't showing it. But I want to come up with ways that I can inspire my husband. I want to help him pursue his passion, and, least of all, I want to express an interest in his life, even if the things he's excited about are not the things I get excited about.

I wanted to share a partial list of some of the ideas I've found/come up with that will help me express my interest in the future. I am accepting any and all ideas, if you have something to add to this list!

1. Don't just ask "how was your day--"ask for details.
2. Send him an email in the middle of the day, asking how things are going.
3. Ask what he wants to do when he gets home, and then do it with him.
4. Try something new in bed.
5. Ask him about his "bucket list," and then cross something off with him.
6. Give him a book about something in which he's interested.
7. Ask him about his dreams, and ask how to help him with them.
8. Text him something encouraging.
9. Respect him.
10. Leave notes around the house.
11. Suggest that he pursue a hobby in which he's interested.
12. Leave him an honest-to-god voicemail--and not one that says "pick up milk."
13. Ask him what's going on at work, then follow up later in the week on his answer.
14. Plan a date for something we enjoy doing together.
15. Tell him what he's good at.
16. Start a "Dream" file with him, and include travel brochures, business ideas, etc...
17. Budget for him.
18. Tell him in front of everyone how amazing he is.
19. Remember his dreams from months/years ago, and ask him if they're still a possibility.
20. Ask him what I can do to inspire and empower him.

The Spanko/Vanilla Answers

Here are the answers to this month's questions for both me and my husband. I wanted him to chime in this year, to give a little perspective on what it was like, one year in, for a former vanilla in a DD/TTWD relationship. Alas, he is a man of few words when he's put on the spot, but I managed to pry more than just "yes" and "no" answers from him :)


Nina asked: What is most important to you in a friendship? How would you and your husband describe each other in one word?

He: Mutual trust is the most important thing in my friendships. And I would describe my wife as "strong."

She: This is a hard question for me, because, in all honesty, I don't consider myself to be a very good friend--I am absolutely horrible at keeping in touch with those who've been in my life. I think a willingness to truly listen, though, is probably most important. I would describe my husband as "selfless."


Enzo asked: Since you started this, have your views changed towards being open to trying more things? Also, do any of your friends know about your spanking interest? If so, what has been the reaction?

He: Since starting DD, I'm actually more open to S&M. Before I met my wife, I had no exposure to that sort of thing, and now I'd be open to seeing dungeons or whatever...party, group stuff.

She: I'll start with saying that none of our friends know, which is why my husband did not answer that question. I would love to do a DD meetup with other couples I've met on here. And my husband is open to seeing another man spank me. I would actually like to be spanked by a woman someday, and I've gone back and forth with wanting to attend one of those huge spanking parties like Crimson Moon or Shadow Lane...I don't know yet. Fantasizing about these things and making them happen are obviously very different things. The DD meetup seems to be the most harmless of the bunch at the moment!


Dan asked: Does [your husband] have any advice on how to overcome the reluctance to "hurt" someone they care about?

He: I overcame that reluctance, ultimately, because my wife wanted it, and, secondly, because I didn't see it as a permanent pain--I saw it as temporary pain for her pleasure. I like to compare it to running--why do people go running when they know it's going to hurt their legs? It's cause of the endorphin rush or the "pleasure" aspect of it.

She: I don't know how he ultimately reconciled it, but it took quite a bit of convincing that I really wanted it--that, to me, the pain was like a tiny negative side affect of all the pleasurable aspects to spanking.


Very good questions and thank you all for asking, and, if there are still inquiring readers who want to know more, please ask!

Sir Says

It's late, I'm tired, and I'm over his lap getting a spanking that I asked for.

I'm positioned over his lap so that my head is right next to his nightstand--where I suspect my favorite implement is. So, without prompting and without moving my body an inch, I reach up and open the drawer to peek inside.

"What are you doing, young lady? Did I tell you to move or open that drawer?" he asks.

"I was just looking!" I reply.

Hard smacks ensue. Then he announces that we are going to play a little game called "Sir Says." I take an educated guess that the premise of the game is going to be like "Simon Says," and I'm feeling pretty good, because I've always been good at Simon Says!

"Sir says get on all fours," he says. 

Up I go onto all fours, and he spanks me like that for a while.

"Sir says lay back down," he says. 

I lay back down. This is easy!

"Open the drawer and get me an implement," he says.

I don't move. Ha, he can't get me that easily!

Silence.

"Open the drawer," he says.

Still nothing.

"Are you disobeying a direct order, young lady?" he asks.

"Uuuuhhh...yes sir? Isn't that the game?" I ask.

"You're assuming the rules are the same," he says, as he lets loose a flurry of hard and fast smacks to my poor bottom cheeks. I yell out and squirm around, making him laugh. It seems he is really enjoying this.

"Open the drawer and get me an implement," he says, again.

Now that I know his clever "rules," I open the drawer and pull out an implement.

"Did I say 'Sir Says'?" he asks. "No! You broke the rules." 

My bottom is assaulted by another wave of hard, fast smacks, this time with the little wooden spatula I've pulled out. I squirm around even more.

"This game isn't faaaaaaaaair!!!!" I whine. "I can't win!!!"

"Did I say it was fair? I'm the winner of this game, young lady," he says, as he continues to redden my cheeks with the spatula.

What a clever guy my husband is. I resign myself to my losing status, but the game doesn't last very long, as we are both laughing considerably. He puts lotion on my bottom later, and I can't help thinking that I was the winner of the game, despite the rules being obviously tipped in his favor.

The Spanko/Vanilla Questions

I'm a little late to the game, since we're already halfway through March, but I'd really like to include my husband in this year's question game. You only know him through the stories I tell on here, so I figured I would give him a chance to speak for himself!

So, any questions for him or for us? The "lifelong spanko" and the "lifelong vanilla" will have profound, thought-provoking answers for everything, I'm sure ;)