Blue Moon Red Moon

I know Hubby doesn't read my blog, but just in case, Happy 10th Anniversary!

Not only is it our aluminum anniversary, but it's also a Blue Moon. Cool...

This morning Hubby gave me the best present ever!!! There was a card with a tin foil heart he cut out followed by sex and a spanking! It was more than amazing. I'm fairly certain that was the best sex we've ever had.  And then this evening he gave me diamond earrings. Oh boy am I spoiled rotten! I gave him a framed picture of a word cloud of the new vows in the shape of a heart. I made it at Tagxedo and used the colors from our wedding.

Tonight we go to a restaurant on the beach, followed by a walk on the beach. Then we go to a small wine shop where I've made a reservation (because the place is always crowded) and that's where I will read to him my (updated) vows. It is going to be a magical evening!

Have a great weekend! (((hugs)))

The Motivator

Well it was bound to happen...

I ordered this paddle I've named "The Motivator" to get Hubby over the word "punishment" and instead think of spanking me as motivation. He seemed to be on board with that. I was looking forward to testing it out for our anniversary on Friday. I didn't plan on what happened instead.

A few days ago, Hubby asked me to make sure we had an idea for meals so he wasn't expected to come up with something at the last minute, especially since we are trying to stick to a particular diet. I agreed and said I would. My little girl has been sick with some nasty virus and has been home from school. I know it's not an excuse. I've been trying to get work done. Also not an excuse. And I've been really tired. I know...I know...not an excuse either.

So today when I texted I was hungry at lunchtime and Hubby texted he was too, I knew the jig was up.

Me: What do you want to do for lunch?

Hubby: Not sure...What are some options?

Me: Crap

Hubby: What's wrong?

Me: I'm doing that thing you told me not to. Not planning. Not having an answer to what's to eat. Answering I don't know. Not caring.

Hubby: Oh... That think :)

Me: Yeah. Good thing the motivator isn't hear yet or I'd be having a date with it tonight.

Hubby: Lol!!!

Me (later): Looks like the motivator will be here today after all. Bummer...

Hubby: :)

Me (even later - from home: The Motivator is here and it doesn't fit in the the shoe box.

Hubby: Nice!!! I'll be easy with it...At first... ;)

So, tonight with be my first punishment motivational spanking. My tummy is tied in knots. The worst part is that I know I deserve it. I take it back...The worst part is having to wait until later. I've got another 3 hours until pants down. Sigh...

I Need Your Help Please

I really need some help, some advice, some direction if you will. You see, this Friday is my 10th anniversary and I want to rewrite my vows to Hubby as a gift. My original vows were lame in comparison to his. I wrote about bringing him Advil and a cold mask when he has a headache, always being supportive, and other niceties. He recited 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, my favorite passage. He won.

I told him I was rewriting them and he gave me the "I hope this doesn't involve that discipline stuff" look. Okay, maybe I was reading into it a little, but it was a strange look.

So now I would like to rewrite my vows, especially considering all that's changed in the past 6 months. I've got a start here, but could use your help in fleshing it out. Pretty please? I tried to include some guy references, since he was in the Navy and all.

*********
Hubby,

Every day, I wake up and realize that I love you more than I did the day before. You are my constant. My rock. My everything. For this reason, I have chosen to rewrite my vows to you to reflect the changes of the past 10 years.

I vow to love you always. You are and have always been my partner in all things. We've done some amazing things in our time as a married couple. Your love for me is unfailing and without condition, even after all that I've put you through. My love for you will continue to grow with us. (does this sound okay?)

I vow to honor you always. You deserve nothing less than the respect you have earned by always being there for me, no matter how crazy I got. (need more here)

I vow to obey you. You are my Captain. I will follow your lead. You are my navigator. Where you go, I will also. (need more here)

I vow to help you, as God created Eve to help Adam, although I will not listen to snakes and try to feed you forbidden fruit. I am your XO. You will not be alone. (need more here)

I vow to submit to you, as is written in Ephesians 5:22-33.

²² Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. ²³ For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. ²⁴ Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.
²⁵ Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her ²⁶ to make her holy, cleansing^[b] her by the washing with water through the word, ²⁷ and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. ²⁸ In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. ²⁹ After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church— ³⁰ for we are members of his body. ³¹ “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.”^{[c] 32} This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. ³³ However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.

I vow to be the best wife I can be (at least for the next 70 years). We've been through better and worse, richer and poorer (mostly poorer), and sickness and health. And we've come through these things with humor, trust, and bonding. (I need to get real sappy here to end)

I love you and always will. You are my everything, and I vow to be yours too.
**********
As you can see, it needs some help. I'm on a short timeline here and will update it as suggestions come in and as my cogs start turning. Thank you in advance for your help!

A Delayed Introduction

Hi...My name is Lil Misses (obviously not, but for practical reasons, I cannot share my true identity). I chose the name to reflect what I am not but want to be, and some of who I am. Hearing several times on tv or in conversation between adults as I was growing up, "Why don't you check with the lil missus" or some such (really? some such? I'm appalled at my own writing sometimes). I also liked the word "misses" as in I have little misses, or missteps, as opposed to big ones. And of course "unfolds" has very much to do with my needs/desires/self-discovery that is blooming whether I want it to or not.

I am 41 and almost a 1/2 (yes, I count every day and for good reason). I have 2 great elementary age kiddos. My husband and I will share our 10th anniversary on Friday, August 31st. We are very happy and get along wonderfully. I own a business selling a product I invented 4 years ago. It's very successful, although we struggle financially because I refused to use credit to build my business. Everything I made, I put right back into it.

When Hubby and I decided to move to Florida from Oregon to be closer to his family (yeah...still questioning my logic on that one), he left a very good job and we moved my business. But here in Florida jobs are scarce, especially for someone with an MBA. Everywhere he went he was "over qualified" so we struggled for 6 months as we made the decision to "Go Big" with my business. I let Hubby take over the monotonous things I didn't like to do, mainly bookkeeping and manufacturing, while I headed up sales, customer service, and graphic design. I found myself giving up more and more of my control over things and slipping further away from the business. I fell into a hole of depression. I was miserable, had no friends, no home church, no future I could imagine.

Hubby describes me then as someone he didn't recognize. I had lost all will to do anything. I would vehemently deny to every one that I was depressed. I didn't follow the typical symptoms. I was already on medication for anxiety, one that I had been off and on for 12 years. I have a bit of a problem with anxiety and paranoia. Of course you wouldn't know that unless you've seen me off my meds. Otherwise I am completely normal...well, whatever that means.

After a couple years of living here in the sunshine state I had made friends, the business grew and we had employees (heck...I even got myself an assistant), and found a church that fit us perfectly. Life could not be better. But it wasn't, not for me. I gave away more and more of my responsibilities and showed up to the office less and less. I was aware that it felt like my medication wasn't working anymore and one doctor doubled the dose. It was like it just stopped working and no amount of it was going to fix anything. I made an appointment with a psychiatrist to get put on another medication.

The day before my appointment, I had a meltdown. I will spare you all the gory details, but suffice it to say that I practically accused my husband of having an affair with my assistant (which would never happen in a million years!), and when I realized that that was not the issue, my feelings of betrayal went into the next possible place, that I was no longer of value to anyone. I drove around for a couple hours with nowhere to go and no one to talk to, in a complete meltdown as it felt as though my universe just collapsed in on itself and there was nothing left but hurt and anger. I refused all his (and anyone else) attempts to contact me. I was in a downward spiral. Thank goodness it only lasted a couple hours.

Once I was put on the new medication, I sought out help from a therapist. What I found out from her completely changed my life. The hard, emotionally charged trauma work she had me doing, plus the new medication, freed me of all these demons that have been haunting me for years. I no longer had to be the strong woman who never cried. I now had grace to get me through the day. I released so much from my past that I am now able to truly live. I still see her weekly to talk about any issues that may have come up or any trauma work she wants to put me through. But I am happy now. And I cry openly and often, which my therapist says has the same effects on the brain as having an orgasm. Yay me...

What came with this new release was completely unexpected for Hubby and me. I was able to finally talk about my deepest desires. And what do you know? There were several websites and blogs devoted to it. There is so much information out there about spanking, and I followed the breadcrumbs until it landed me on DD. Once I was here in domestic discipline land, I did not want to leave. Sure, I questioned if it was right for me. But I know in my heart it is what I always wanted but was afraid to ask.

Hubby of course said "NO!" at first (and still does about discipline anyway). But he's gotten really good at what I've requested of him; stress relief spankings. He doesn't necessarily like doing it so I have been making sure to make it as sensual as possible. And now I'm working on the other parts of the DD relationship by being as submissive as I can and showing him that this new dynamic doesn't have to change who we are. He's been doing great at taking on the HoH role and even changing how he talks to me so that there's no wiggle room when he tells me to do something. We are working on it together. He is my motivator.

Speaking of motivators...I just bought a round leather paddle by Spartacus on eBay and it should arrive Tuesday or Wednesday. I'm hoping that if Hubby looks at my request more as motivation and less like discipline, then he might be willing to give it a try. We will see. I'm making suggestions and leaving it to him to decide what he wants to do. I will obey whatever he decides.

As far as my business is concerned, Hubby put me back in full control of it and he stepped away. He does help me often as I am learning the reigns of this new full blown business that I started in my garage. Now we are in a warehouse with employees that act like teenagers and equipment that is always on the verge of breakdown. But I'm handling it. Hubby went back to contracting programming stuff and all things geek. It's working out very well for both of us. I can't wait to see what the future holds!

The Attic

I was reading Lillie's post about not being brave enough to share her work of fiction (she's an excellent writer by the way), and I remembered that I have a story I wrote a couple years ago that I never shared with anyone (except my therapist and Hubby). It's non-DD, based on a recurring nightmare I used to have. I didn't share it because I didn't want anyone who knew me to think I was screwed up, bonkers, crazy. I'm definitely those things, but I'm putting it out there. I need to do this. You will see why...

**********
The Attic

Ever since I was very young, I've had nightmares. In most of them I'm being chased. Sometimes bad things are happening. Family members are being tortured and buried alive. I can't get to my half-brother in time for the bad guy to grab him from the swing at the park...at midnight. Why we would be at the park at midnight I have no idea. My father, the alcoholic, is being wrapped up in barbed wire and can't get out. They, the bad guys, are chasing me. Chasing me. Chasing me. And I'm running. I can't get away from the chase.
I understand that these nightmares come from a dark place in my mind. I know that coming from a broken home where fighting between my mother and her best friend whom constantly betrayed her (example; my half-brother) was inevitable but my mother still insisted on being a doormat. She did her best to protect me, but she couldn't protect me from my nightmares.

As I grew older, and especially after my mother died, my nightmares grew more detailed. The plots thickened. The answers were forever just out of reach. There was no place to hide. No place was safe. The dreams were vivid, colorful. The bad guy ever present. Still chasing me. Chasing me in color and fury and determination. It was inescapable. It was all in my head and I was trapped there with it, in the attic. Always the attic.

I opened the door. The smell of dust mingled with a slight whiff of mold, like the opening of century-old school books. Really that smell was so exciting to me. I'm reminded of adventures to be had, forts to be built, stories to be made up. Just before my mother died, we lived in a one bedroom house that had a detached garage with a mother-in-law's attic above. Although the attic needed a lot of work and there were no furnishings, I always imagined that there was a fully stocked kitchenette and a brightly furnished room. But something evil dwelt there. I could almost taste it. It lived in the smell of the mold. It was as if I could reach out and grab hold of it, if only it wouldn't slip through my fingers. I would spend hours up in that room. I would close my eyes and imagine what could have been, wherever the dark feeling took me. And it took me places I didn't want to go. It got so bad that I became terrified of that room. I didn't want to go up there anymore. It was no longer fun. And with my mother's cancer choking the life out of her, I didn't want to do anything but die with her. At almost 13 years old, I couldn't grasp reality or nightmares. But back to the attic dream...

I was in the attic. The smell of dust and mold. The dusty wooden floors. Everything was dusty. The only light in the room shown through a clouded window and highlighted the dusty, broken cobwebs strewn across the corners and on the bit of wooden furniture haphazardly placed in the room. My attention was drawn to the overstuffed armchair. Dust and cobwebs muted the orange color of the velour fabric. The warmed dust beckoned me to my hands and knees. To the right of the armchair was a small door in the wall, about the same size as a trapdoor. If only I could stop myself from opening it. As the door swung towards me, I peered through the hole, my head cocked with curiosity. I don't know that I crawled through the door so much as just appeared on the other side of it.

More dust and mold. More dusty floors. It was the same room. The same orange velour armchair. The only difference between where I was and where I came from was the diminishing light. Everything was darker. I spied the trapdoor and was instantly transported through it to the next room. Again the same room, the same chair, even darker. Another trapdoor. Another instantaneous transportation. Only this time, no orange chair, no trapdoor. I stood there surveying the dark room. After a few minutes, my eyes adjusted to the dark and I could make out a few wooden chairs. I started to explore the room and found several doorways, but no windows. Everything I touched left dust on my fingertips. The dust infiltrated my clothing and my nostrils and thickened my long, dark hair. The possibility that I had always been there, part of the room like the old, rickety wooden chairs, had crossed my mind.

I became aware of a presence. The presence. It watched me. Every inch of my skin knew of that dark entity that I could neither see nor touch. But it was there. I knew it was there as I started to move away from it. It occurred to me that this thing could be my imagination, that I could be testing the boundaries of my own sanity. Perhaps the very thought of it was inviting it in. Can you think such things into existence? I doubted so as I moved into another room. The darkness of the room threatened to envelop me. The evil lurked in the corners. In the smell of mold. In my mind.

My head started to pound as I searched frantically with my eyes and outstretched arms for something or someone to save me from the inevitable chase. I found an old wooden bed in the corner. A layer of dust veiled an old, tattered quilt draped over a thin mattress. The smell of things long dead permeated the room but I dared not move on. I dropped down to the floor and slid under the bed. My heart beat out of my chest and I was sure the sound reverberated through the floorboards, giving away my location to the invisible predator. I couldn't breathe. The very act of inhaling only fueled the abuse my heart was inflicting on my ribs as it beat wildly out of control. I had to get out of there. I was trapped. It was after me.

What was this dark thing? What was this pernicious spirit that threatened me? I smelled it coming for me. I scrambled out from under the bed and started to run. A room. Another room. All dusty and dark and endless. Where were the windows? How do I escape. It's coming for me. It's almost here! A scream caught in my throat. The adrenaline coursed through my veins lighting every muscle on fire. I was trapped. Trapped in this endless attic, this dark and musty labyrinth. It had me cornered with no way out. I could almost reach out and grab hold of it. As my fear grew, so did this malevolent being that chased me. It started to become a physical substance; a black fog that sucked up all light in it's presence. And I was next. I tried to run but my legs were jello and every effort yielded little result. I tried to scream but the sound was nothing more than a hum. I threw weak, wild punches at it.

I gasped and shot up all at once. My heart beat loudly as I looked around my bedroom. A cold sweat dampened my nightshirt, sending chills down my spine as the breeze from the fan swept past me.  I couldn't go back to sleep. I couldn't go back to that monster.

I couldn't stop myself from falling back into the blackness. It lured me back in. Over and over again. That night and many nights since, I'd awaken to a gasp or a strangled scream. Sometimes it would try to trick me into coming to it willingly. A Southern Belle shows me around her plantation, all bright and sunny and painted pale yellow. "Let me show you the upstairs," she gushed in southern accent. No. No I won't go upstairs. I know there is a wide, welcoming hallway at the top of those stairs. But I also know what's beyond that. Somehow, after making the decision to follow her I would be instantly transported to the attic. You can't make me go back there. I won't. I won't do it. I can't.

Through the years, the dream has changed. The last time I had it, the dust and cobwebs were gone. Large windows offered a view of the coastal landscape below. The wood was warmed from the sun and had no signs of dust or mold. A wide, open staircase invited me upstairs. I explored the rooms, none of which were furnished save one. The room that captivated me held an empty, white, wooden crib and a rocking chair. As soon as I spied the chair I was transported onto it. I sat their knitting, a skill which I did not possess at the time, watching the empty crib with intense longing. My heart was broken. A puddle of blackness formed under my chair as I rocked. It spread beneath the crib and I knew we were about to fall through the floor. But I awoke. I was still intact as was my heart. I equated the dream with my fears that I would never have children. That was 7 years ago.

It scares me still to think of those dreams. I don't dare set foot in an attic. I have to catch my breath when I think of the demon that my fear became. I'm still running. I'm still being chased.

**********

I Could Use a Spanking Right Now

Well last night's talk was not exactly what I had hoped for. I should've known. He's just starting to take charge. He's not one to dive into something headlong. Especially when it involves something he believes to be abhorrent. But I do respect him. He's starting to take charge and rethink his position as the leader of our family. I have got to have patience.

So all this thinking got me to pondering what I do that goes against the 4 D's.

Nothing Dangerous: Well, I kinda do a couple things that in most Dd relationships would be punished severely. But Hubby does them too and so I don't think that's something that's going to change for either of us.

Nothing Dishonest: I'm not really one for lying, but I have omitted things in the past. I try really hard not to. And you can bet that from now on I will confess the truth no matter what. (As a matter of fact, I just did. But it's a long story that I don't know how to make shorter and it's not worth a blog post.)

Nothing Disobedient: I'm already naturally submissive. I'm don't talk back or balk at his authority. I would willingly do most things as long as they are presented to me as a demand and not a request. I file requests in the "When I get around to it" file. Only I don't think I ever get around to these things.

Nothing Disrespectful: Well I kinda blew this one last night. I am normally very respectful. You see, sometimes Hubby gets upset with one or both of the kids and decides to take action quickly, decisively, and in a bit of a huff. It usually involves them having something taken away. I end up interjecting and interrupting him in front of the kids. I texted him today some of my feelings. The stuff in parenthesis is not part of the text, just an explanation.

Me: I thought about something. You're probably not going to like it.

Hubby: Rut Ro

Me: Last night I was disrespectful to you in front of the kids.

Hubby: ....I don't recall anything like that

Me: With K (our 5 year old daughter) and her ice (cup of crushed ice she takes to bed). I intervened quite loudly in front of the kids. It's not the first time I've done it. But it is the first time since trying to change my ways and be more submitting to your authority.
It's not okay for me to do that because I'm showing them that I will protect them from you as if you are some sort of bad person. Like R (R & P and their young son B were neighbors of ours from years ago.) with B. Remember his sly smile as she would protect him from P? I know that's an extreme example, but it doesn't take much for the kids to get the picture. They don't need protecting from you. They need me to be a good example of listening and obeying.

Hubby: Fair enough... Thank you for being aware of the action. ;) I love u

Me: I don't commit many punishable offenses because I am already inclined to be submissive and I usually think about things before I do anything.
But last night my actions were not acceptable.

Hubby replied in person. He said that he doesn't want me to be carrying around all this guilt about what happened. He said that if punishment is something that I need, then he can have me do the dishes tonight. It's usually his job because I'm not a fan of the kitchen. And then he said quite resolutely that tonight I am to do the dishes.

I am beyond thrilled that he is taking me in hand (ish) and making decisions. I like that he clarifies his normal request with a demand. But I could really use a spanking. Not because I want one. I do not relish the idea of a punishment spanking. It would hurt a lot and I might even cry. But, I know I need one. That's the only thing that will help me remember, the next time I even think about disrespecting him in front of the kids, to think twice. Dirty dishes? Ummm...not so much. I don't feel like it's a clean slate, that I've paid for my transgression. I'm not sure how to deal with this. I want to tell him that I request a spanking, but I don't think he will do it. It may even make him upset. I should just be happy that he's giving some sort of consequence, one that he can handle. It's a step up, right?

Ugh...

Trying Not to Get My Hopes Up

Hubby and I were IMing today and I highlighted the part that intrigued me:

Hubby: what up

me: My next appt with dr. v is the 28th

       I haven't lost anything

       I need you to help motivate me

       I can't do it on my own

Hubby: yes, I can do that... :)

       have you been taking the meds he prescribed?

me: yes

       mostly

Hubby: cool

       ?

me: I missed a week

Hubby: k

me: but then I got back on it

Hubby: no worries... :)

       lets do this thing

me: I just haven't been eating what I should

       And I know it's my fault

       I have lots of guilt

       my bowl is sloshing

Hubby: roger...

       here is what I want you to do. reschedule the appt for next month before 20th

me: ok

Hubby: tonight, you and I will write out some "rules" for us to follow...and me to enforce

me: ok

Hubby: tomorrow, you will go to the grocery store and stock up on the first things we'll need        (2-3 days of stuff) and we'll kick this thing :)

me: alright

Hubby: i love u

       so much

me: i love you too

       thank you

I plan on bringing home wine for us to share during our talk. I should know better than to get my hopes up about Dd. I doubt that's what he means by "enforce". I just can't help myself. I've got all these thoughts swimming in my head and I just know I'm setting myself up for disappointment. But a girl can hope, right?

Still Waiting

So the bedroom has become a disaster again. Mostly it's clothes that need to be put away, but for whatever reason (cough, cough, laziness), I haven't gotten around to it. The craft area desperately needs organizing. The kitchen counter is covered in letters (mostly bills), magazines, crafts that the kids made, things I've picked up off the table to make room for dinner, toys, etc. Hubby asked me a few times now to gather all the medical bills and give him a list so he can start chipping away at them. There's dusting, sweeping, mopping, laundry, and things to be put away.

Have I lifted a finger? Nope. Why? I have no idea. I'm stuck. This R2 unit has a bad motivator. So what are we going to do about it? Nothing. I will get to it when I get to it if I ever get to it. This has nothing to do with wanting Dd, but there is every reason to start. I am not stubborn because I want to be punished. This is an area in my life that has always existed. I'm a clutter bug. I'm not now, nor have I ever been, a neat freak.

I discovered Dd recently and brought the idea to Hubby (again). I received an outright NO (again). So I wrote the stuff I think needed to be fixed, the list he asked for, and he never responded. While I can get my spanko needs met almost daily to rid myself of stress, I don't get motivation out of it. If I knew that there was a threat of a punishment of some sort unless I started getting things done, you'd better bet I would be making all kinds of changes.

"But wait! Why don't you just do it? Be submissive and act as if these things would be punished if not done." It just doesn't work that way for me. Without external motivation, nothing gets done. It's not because I'm digging my heels in until I get my way. It's just the way I work (or don't in this case). So now what? I wait. I impatiently wait. I agonizingly trudge through every day waiting. I haven't bugged him any more about Dd. I'm just waiting. I hate waiting...

What's Your Analogy?

I've been trying  to explain to Hubby why I need him to soothe and spank me often. I've been trying to tell him how us women work and how I need spanking to relax from the stress of the day. "Don't you have a shrink for that?" he jokes. Yes, I have a therapist, and without her I would'nt be as happy as I am today. The past 2 months has been amazing. My therapist is the reason I was able to let go of all this emotional crap that was holding me back. She also taught me that I have been expecting too much from myself.

All this time, I thought crying equaled weakness. But she brought out the tears and forced me to face them. Now I cry willingly, when I feel it, wherever I am. I'm not afraid. I don't feel weak. It makes me stronger. I'm softer and more yielding and more submissive. I'm not holding onto all this junk any more. But there is more to it than that, and I've been trying to explain it to Hubby, but I'm not sure he's understanding me. I haven't come across a fitting analogy to use. I hope the following doesn't offend anyone.

We, as women, have a tendency to be like a bowl. Negative energy like hurt, anger, frustration, fear, and loneliness fill our bowl. It could be one incident, it could be a million things, but something eventually overfills our bowl and we start spilling out these emotions with our ugly cry raging and hatred rearing it's ugly heat. All this negative energy and emotion fills us up and without an outlet, we will explode. This negative energy has to go somewhere. It doesn't just disappear. POOF! All better! Ummm...not even a little bit.

Hubby says he thinks men have the same bowls but they drill different sized holes in the bottom. You can fill them all the way up and they will spill over. But leave them overnight and they mostly drain out.

So when I have him spank me, I'm asking him to please help empty my bowl. For me, it is the pain that forces the emotions out. I have to let go as I give into him. It seeps out as I talk to him about my day. It all flows out with the pain. No more anger. No more hurt. No more guilt or sadness or frustration. I confess to him and I am freed.

My therapist says I am looking very happy and relaxed. She's none the wiser. I'm okay with that. I am happier and more relaxed. At this point that's all that matters, right?

Type A Does Not Equal Dominant

You know how some things you don't really think about until you realize how obvious it is and then you see you've been completely ignorant? Like the time I realized that Twinkle Twinkle Little Star is the same melody as the ABC song (and Bah Bah Black Sheep). I just had another one; Type A personality does not equal a dominant personality. I guess I just assumed they walked hand in hand.

I'm a type B, a follower, submissive. Hubby is a type A, more of a leader than I, neither submissive nor dominant. He sees us as equal. We are equal, and would still be if he decided to be the HoH. Since I know he knows where my blog is but he never reads it, I'll go into a bit more detail.

Hubby's mom raised him and his sister pretty much single-handedly. His father was/is a workaholic and wasn't around as much as he should've been. His mother made the rules, checked to see homework was done, fed and clothed them. She was the matriarch. How do you get a man who's used to having a woman in charge to take charge? Your guess is as good as mine.

He has stepped up a bit. He's giving direction. He's putting his foot down. Maybe he's been that way all along and it took me being more submissive to him to see it? Nah... If he would've done those things before, I think I would've noticed.

(And here I go a-wandering)

In the meantime, I get to live vicariously through you (if you have a blog that I read ---->). I've been trying to read more so I can get a better picture. I think ttwd, if we ever do it, will be different than anything I've read so far. I've never really had an attitude that needed fine tuning. I've always been conscious of my decisions and any consequences. I may be a dreamer, but I'm also a thinker. I don't make any decision without weighing out the pros and cons, and even asking advice. I don't do anything rash. My biggest problem area besides the new rules I suggested (which he has yet to say anything about), is in dealing with our kids. They drive me insane! Don't get me wrong, I love my babies dearly, but the constant bickering, tattling, and outright meanness is going to send me to the looney bin. I think they fight just to get me upset. I've started trying to be more of a referee, but I still get really cranky with them not listening to me. It's like they are trying to make me blow my top before they will put their shoes away or brush their teeth or get dressed. Sheesh!

I guess we all have our trials. If I'm going to get punished for something, it's probably going to be over the kids. And if he ever instates the new rules I suggested, I would probably get in trouble a few times for not managing my time wisely (ex: reading all those blogs I love). Who knows...I may need some attitude adjustments from time to time, probably because I tested my limits. I do test limits. I can't help myself. I'm better with zero tolerance. That would keep me from testing my limits. Well, of course I'd probably test it once. Once would be enough.

(Now I really get sidetracked and start rambling)

I've been spanking-free for a few days. I've got a doctors appointment on Thursday, and I don't want to be asked about bruises. Plus, it's about to be that time of the month. I won't see in action until it's over.

Hubby is watching me expectantly while eating his cereal, in the bedroom. I think I'm supposed to get off the computer now and get ready to go to the office. Fine! (here I go with the attitude!)

To sum up...oh what the hell...I'm a crazy pms lady with no one to talk to and no spanky-treats. There...how's that?

I Think He Put His Foot Down

Just a little background on me. I have an addiction to regular Coca-Cola. Only, it doesn't like me one bit. Besides the every irritating heartburn it gives, it contains caffeine, which my brain can't handle too well. My poor brain got miswired on several things. When I was pregnant, instead of throwing up for morning sickness, I had sneezing fits. I took an Adderall once and was stoned for the rest of the day. Caffeine? Well, too much makes me tired and the slightest bit will cause me to have memory problems. But I love my Coke!!! It's not fair!!!

Today, while trying to get the house in some semblance of order, I got a headache and whined to Hubby to bring home Advil. I later confessed that I thought it was a caffeine headache and after some questioning, I confessed that I had indeed been having Coke in the mornings. He gave me a little talking to. It wasn't enough to make me upset, but it did get my attention because he's never talked to me like that before. He was matter-of-fact with a dominant quality I've never heard out of him. He didn't say this, but I think he may consider this a spankable offense. Therefore, I am off the Coke. No more for me. I don't want to risk a real punishment spanking.

It's just so yummy. Oh Coke, I will miss you so. Sad, sad me...

This Thing

It seems everyone has their own version of TTWD or TIH or DD or whatever. I'm working towards something, I'm just not sure what it is. With Hubby's resistance and my constantly questioning where I fit in, time is moving too slowly and thoughts too fast, and no answers are coming out of it. I continue to have patience, leave Hubby to his thoughts about it all, and take a lot of deep breaths. He still hasn't answered my letter to him. I'm guessing maybe either he doesn't want to think about it, he hopes if he ignores it it'll go away, or he's still mulling over things. In the meantime, I've been having him rub my bare bottom every night, sharing my emotions and thoughts.

I tried confessing an oops on my part yesterday during our special time and he just laughed at me. He had instructed me 2 weeks ago not to let the gas tank go below 1/4 tank because it's hard on the fuel pump and we don't need another car repair. We have one car and the transmission is about to go. We don't need to do the poor car any more damage. I promised with a firm "Yes sir!" which earned me cockeyed look. Yesterday, I noticed that the tank was just at 1/4 and I knew I should get it filled but I had so many things to get done. I took my daughter shopping for school clothes and lunch. We were out all afternoon and didn't get home until 6 pm. My tank was just above E. I didn't mean for that to happen. I just got so caught up in everything else, I didn't think about it. His reaction told me that he didn't really care about it. I took it as a rule. He just shrugged his shoulders. For now I'm just going to keep trying to be submissive to him in hopes that he will see my desire for Dd as what's best for us.

Until then, I think I will write out what happened versus what I would have like to have happened as a sort of cathartic release. Let's take this morning for example. What happened? Well, I miscalculated the funds available in the business checking account. I didn't read something carefully and thought a $770 item was already deducted when it was not. This morning the account was -$600 and was hit with $140 in overdraft fees. Really, after Hubby told me yesterday about the mess, there was nothing to do but wait until this morning to see what the damage was. He reassured me that it happens, especially because it's summer time and things are real slow this time of year. Some simple math on my part couldn't hurt, but lesson learned for next time.

Here's what I think I would've preferred (*do do do do* *do do do do* *do do do do* - my best Wayne and Garth wavy fade into an alternate reality impression, sad because I couldn't find a YouTube video to remind everyone 😞): My loving and gentle Hubby had me lay across his lap. He pulled my panties down to just below my sit spot and started to rub, talking the entire time about how business is just slow and these things happen. He spent a lot of time rubbing and reassuring. "You need to let go of the stress and relax. Do you understand?" The lack of response from me was quickly met with four hard spanks. "Do you understand???" he demanded. "Yes sir!" I squealed. He continued rubbing and talking about how we were going to get through the weekend just fine. He told me he loved me over and over throughout the talk. He was so loving and comforting that when he let me up, I felt relieved and worry free. I think I was happily skipping to the shower!

So there you have it. Reality and it's alternate ending. Hard to type with my thumbs on my phone but it's all good. Once I get a new laptop I think any keyboard will do just fine. On the bright side, I do get to use my emoticons. 😉

The Day the Laptop Died

I've got to be quick with this post. My laptop may black out any second, leaving me even more frustrated at all the words I've lost. My poor, old, decrepit 2004 MacBook... I got her when I was pregnant with my son and she's been my companion in good times and bad. We've started businesses, failed at businesses, learned to blog, learned the ways of social media, skyped, and explored the depths of Google together. She's kept me warm, whether I wanted her to or not. She's put up with my accidents; spilling coffee, dropping her on the floor, letting the babies bang on her keys and drool on her monitor. She's put up with my on-purposes; tearing her apart, wiping her down, blowing her out, and putting her back together again, always somehow leaving me with one extra screw. She's been a longtime friend. I will miss her when she finally kicks it. Until then, I plan to take as much advantage of her as possible.

I won't replace her with another MacBook because, honestly, we have all PC's and going Mac was part of my rebellious streak. Yeah...see how I am? I am such a trouble maker! I also drink decaf, just so you know. I may be a bad influence on you, so watch out! While I'm trying to not hit the keys too hard for fear she may black out for the last time, I'm searching for aptoplays (it's pig Latin. Shhhhh! She may get angry). She's been quite temperamental in her old age. I imagine she's 80 in MacBook years. She's had more upgrades than Joan Rivers has had facelifts. She's been a trooper through it all, which makes it all the sadder? more sad? whatever!

Hubby is suggesting that I go to Office Depot and Best Buy and write blog posts to test keyboards until I find one that is comfortable. I don't need my laptop to do much since I have a pretty powerful computer in the office. I just need to get online, read and write blog posts, maybe do a little online shopping. I don't need much power, I just need a comfy keyboard. Maybe do a little Skyping...maybe... What do you use? Do you have a favorite?

Go Ahead and Laugh!

I just read the funniest post EVER!!! Check out this post by Stormy. It's gauranteed to make you crack up!

New Rules?

 Last week, Hubby and I discussed a different approach to discipline, since he likes to think of it as consequences. He wanted me to come up with rules and my own consequences for breaking them. I spent some time last night deep in thought and wrote him this letter:

Places where I need "encouragement" to better myself and our lives:

1. Time management: Obviously I lose track of time constantly, especially when I am craft shopping or on the computer. Boundaries and limits would be good here.
2. Chores: Well...what can I say. A daily chore list would be helpful.
3. Meal planning: I've had every intention in the world of getting around to making weekly shopping lists so we can stay on a budget and quit eating out. This is my fault and I accept full responsibility. I need a set time to sit undisturbed to plan for the week until I am done. I also need a set shopping day/time. No excuses, no distractions.
4. Sleep: I think staying with a strict bedtime would be good for both of us. What we do after we get to bed is another story. But no more tv/computer/phones after that time. No phones in bed.
5. Child management: The kids need boundaries and limits as well. I am at least 50% responsible for their care. Helping them get organized for the following day, making sure they are fed, bathed, and in bed by 7:30 should be a goal for both of us. But I need to step up and not make you work so hard.
6. Weight management: I don't stay on a plan because I'm not even sure I care. I need you to push me to make the right decisions. I need boundaries. I need to be expected to follow through and quit playing around with my health and yours. You follow what I set in place for our diet plan. But I don't stick to it, so neither do you. If I'm expected to stick to it, and I fail, then I fail us both. It's vitally important for us to get this under control. I am counting on you to ensure we don't.
   
7. Submitting to you: I know you hate that word. It makes me cringe too. But here's the rub; we don't get anything done unless one of us is the leader and the other the follower. I need you to be the leader of our household. I need to be a good example to our daughter, and you to your son. Just because I submit to you does not mean that I am at your whim. It means that when there is a decision to be made, we discuss it, but you have the final say. It means that I follow your lead. It means that we work together in all things. It means that you cherish me and want what's best for me, for our marriage, and for our children. It means that you are the leader of our family in all ways, especially spiritually. And it means that I help you. It's still a partnership. We still hold each other accountable. We are still a team. I will do my part.
   

With rules come consequences. Not all of them can be as easy as losing at-home computer and/or phone privileges. Sometimes, especially when I know you are disappointed in me, I beat myself up verbally. I call myself names, I berate and belittle myself, and I fall into a hole where I build up a knot inside full of anger. I need you to help me prevent that. As to how...well I'm sure we will figure something out. All I know is that I need you to be strong. I need you to help guide me to become the wife and mother I know I can be. And those decisions will not always be easy, but if made in love, we can correct the issues together.
I hope this makes sense to you. Just know that I love you dearly. I want this for us. We can make this work. I believe in it. Trust me.

I love you.

He has read it, but not responded. He says he needs some time to digest it. I'm okay with that. Notice that nowhere in the letter did I mention spanking or any kind of physical discipline. I just asked for his help. If we do what I suggested, it would mean huge changes in our relationship. I've been trying to prove to him that I can be submissive and still be my same old playful self.

I'll let you know what his response is.

In the meantime, I've been having him rub my bare bottom at night while I talk to him about the day, especially anything emotional. Last night he was so helpful with his suggestions about dealing with the kids. He said that instead of getting emotional, I needed to see myself more as the referee. You don't see the ref having a hissy fit while trying to settle a dispute between 2 rivals. So I shouldn't get all wound up either. Good advice Hubby! The rubbing is really helping me. It puts me in a submissive mood and more willing to accept whatever he wants to tell me. I like it a lot.

Wits End: Population 1

Oh my goodness, I am so frustrated I'm not even sure where to start this except to say that my kids are driving me CRAZY! I have a permanent scowl on right now and I'm not sure how to rid myself of it. My son, age 7, and my daughter, age 5, have taken it upon themselves to ensure my insanity. And it all comes down to them not listening to me, threats to take them to the bathroom, more misbehavior, and me tearing my hair out. People pass by in the store as I'm scolding them and just smile while shaking their heads. Why oh why can't the little boogers just listen to me? It would avoid so much of this frustration.

They listen to Hubby of course. He doesn't let them disrespect me or ignore me while in his presence. I'm really the only one they do this to. And it always ends up the same. I start by asking, then pleading, then yelling through gritted teeth and threatening to take away their birthdays. My son argues with me constantly, no matter what it's about. I tell him to stop but he just keeps at it. He's stubborn that way. My daughter is the most strong-willed little demon spawn I've ever met. She is constantly doing things behind my back and then lying about it. She says things that are mean and uncaring just to see if she can get a rise out of me. She laughs at time outs, doesn't care if I take things away. And she's bossy to boot! Sweet on the outside, devil on the inside. Is it just me, or are kids (not just mine) getting more and more out of hand? I would've never been that mouthy to my parents!

I know... I'm not very consistent with them. I'm wait to enforce consequences until I can't take any more. And with the girl, it's difficult to understand what's even going to work. Also, I would never ever get anything done. They choose times when we are out in public to misbehave the worst. Today, I had to get some school shopping done because they start school next week. They were the most obnoxious kids ever. They hit each other, annoyed one another, tattled, and got louder and louder. They wouldn't stay seated in the stupid cart. They wouldn't quit grabbing things. And then they whined incessantly that they wanted something new to play with because they have nothing. For the record, I didn't get them anything new. They have plenty of crap. They don't need anything else. And I do not give in to whining, crying, or fit throwing ever. 

So Hubby is home. Kids are settled down. I'm in my room stewing. Hubby apologized that I had a rotten time with them. He's keeping them out of my hair so I can write this post. I have laundry to get done, but I really don't want to have to look at those little darlings of mine. Just so you know, they get plenty of cuddle time and attention from me. There is no reason whatsoever for them to be acting out.

I need help. What do you do when you get in a mood?

50 Shades of Ignorance

Many people are blogging about 50 Shades of Gray, and I read the post on This Thing Called Life, so I just had to throw in my opinion too. For the record, I have read all three 50 Shades books, plus I am 1/2 way through the 2nd book on audio. Yes, I love them, but for different reasons than you may think.

At this point my therapist would cringe and hug me at the same time. I tell her almost everything. Certain things, like the spanking I got the other night that left huge, beautiful bruises on my bottom, I would not disclose to her. She thinks that spanking that hard is going too far and I disagree. Every time I sit down I am reminded of how much my husband loves me. If I look at it in the mirror, I am amazed at how much I can take (or how soft my bottom is). And I want more. Right now. Eh...I digress...

My first impression of the trilogy is that it's hot, even though the scenes are not as intense as the Sleeping Beauty Trilogy (my favorite being The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty). But there are other sub plots going on, all at the same time, that kept me in the story. Most of the D/s play and sex is okay. But if you are reading the books just for that, prepare for some disappointment. Ana had so many subconscious thoughts that peppered the story so thoroughly I almost wonder, when they make the movie will it be a comedy? I certainly hope not. And please, PLEASE let Ian Somerhalder play Christian.

I must say that E.L. James' lack of literary prowess drives me insane. Why oh why does she have to use the term "envisage" so many times? Her writing is trite and I believe that the "big" words she used came from a word-a-day calendar. Some of the things she said about the west coast, especially in Oregon (where I'm from), were erroneous. To top it off, her audiobooks are read by Becca Battoe, who insists on a California accent, with a valley girl quality to it. You will not find that in Oregon. I have more of a northern California accent, and I lived in Oregon for 28 years. We're known for being an accentless people. The only thing that would be more annoying that Becca's inaccurate accent would be this interpretation.

With all this being said, (spoiler alert ahead) Christian has got some serious psychological issues that, while he is receiving professional help from the equally fictitious Dr. Flynn, would not be conducive to having any sort of relationship. After finishing the series, I could look back on the story and see how sick the entire thing was. Of course I felt sorry for Christian. But I also saw the depravity. He liked to beat little girls that reminded him of his mother, and then fuck them and discard them until the next weekend. These women got nothing from the relationship other than what he allowed. And because they were his submissives, they couldn't do anything other than what he said. But he didn't care for them really.

Here's what I got out of the books (as I said, it's for different reasons than you'd think); Ana was very vanilla and just like my Hubby, not very sexually experienced (ok, Ana was a virgin, but whatever). She had a need to be treated gently, wanting the romance of the relationship. Christian, much like myself, didn't want romance, he just wanted to fuck. It took those dynamics in the story for me to realize that I've been treating Hubby very badly. I haven't been respecting his need to make love. No wonder he didn't want to do it more than once a month. I was animalistic in my need for sex. And I'm ashamed to admit, it was all about me. Since my discovery, which I did tell my therapist about, I have tried to make a change to think about Hubby before myself. I can tell you this for sure, it's made love-making so much better. I am finding more satisfaction in pleasing him than in receiving my pleasure. I'm not sure I would've had this breakthrough without the book.

My therapist wants me to warn anyone and everyone I meet to not read the books. She hasn't read them either, so she doesn't even know what it's about. She just knows that several new clients have come in with trauma that will take years to undo, all because they read the books and acted on what they thought would be fun. Of all the ignorance! Even before I started bugging Hubby to spank me, I knew better than to try the things they were doing in the book. With two inexperienced people trying something that dangerous, of course someone is bound to get hurt. If you want to try something in the BDSM realm, do your research first, have clear communication, and go slowly. I wasn't prepared for how I would feel after my first spanking. Even my last spanking had me all out of sorts. So don't take this sort of play lightly! There...you've been warned. My job here is done.

Be good to each other. ;)

My Mistake

I've spent a lot of time reading and learning and adding new blogs to my list ----->
And I've come up with this to say. I've been going about this all wrong. All. Wrong. I kind of feel silly and childish for my impatience.

After I read The Science of Spanking, and Kate's blog post about her big epiphany, I knew what we had to do. I texted Hubby the science of spanking link (he didn't read it then though) and decided that, after we put the kids down and watched a bit of tv, we would go to bed and take turns talking and pleasuring each other in ways the other likes. Hubby is very vanilla and hardly every really thinks about sex. It's very strange for a man to not be thinking about it all the time. I actually have to remind him that it's been a month and I could really use to get laid please. Whereas I am constantly thinking about sex. I can't get enough.

Last night wasn't really to be about sex. It was to be about pleasuring each other. He loves massages. He loves to be touched in a nonsexual way. Little kisses. Little touches. We talked about emotional needs. We talked about me disappointing him. He quoted his vows to me on our wedding day, 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. He said that he keeps no records of wrongs, so once it's over with, he completely forgets about it. I forget too. That's one of the things I love most about our relationship. More little kisses and touches. Of course, it turned into something more sexual because I was massaging lower and lower on his back and at the top of his bottom. So my hands roamed a bit. What can I say?

When it was my turn, I had him rub my bottom and thighs. We talked about why I need spanking in my life. We talked about how I don't feel so weird about it anymore, like I'm some sort of freak, because of all the wonderful bloggers out there that are just like me. We talked about spreading out the swats to other parts of my bottom, like the top of my thighs. He started swatting me in different places and asking me if that was a good place. Then he would swat several more times until I was squirming (for the record, the top of the thighs stings like a son-of-a-gun!!!). We talked about the emotional release I get. We did not talk about punishment, or boundaries, or anything non-pleasurable. (His time, not mine. He will go there when he's ready.) He preceded to spank me hard. He held me down and spanked me everywhere we talked about. I started breathing heavier, even panting. I was shaking uncontrollably. It was like my body was fighting it.

I don't understand. Emotionally I need spanking. I crave it. But it hurts so much. It's almost unbearable at times. Am I fighting my strong-will? Am I having that hard of a time submitting to him? I can take a lot, but at some point it crosses over from pleasure to outright pain and I struggle. If I'm getting a spanking to help me let go of the stress, at what point do I know I'm done?

I felt strange today. Like something unknown was between Hubby and I. Something has changed and I don't know if it's a bad thing or not. Maybe it's just a change, and that's what's got me out of sorts. I also noted that punishment spankings wouldn't be because he felt the need to make sure I stayed in line. It comes down to either he spanks me to clear my slate, or I beat myself up emotionally. When I verbally abuse myself, I can get downright mean. It's not healthy. If he were to spank me before I could do myself that damage, it would make a huge change in me. Or at least this is the theory. It all sounds good on paper. And again, it's his time and not mine. I have to be patient. I have to submit. What I need will come in good time. Whether or not I can handle it when it does is for another blog post...

Lessons Learned

This morning was like most mornings. I ate breakfast, sat on my bed to write a post, the cat jumped on my chest and with his super comfy power, he made me fall asleep. Between reading other new posts and sleeping, I didn't get into the shower until 9:38. I was supposed to be in the office at 9:30. At 9:22, I decided since I was already late, I could just finish reading this last article and then go shower. Not the right decision.
While I was in the shower, Hubby called. 4 minutes later, he texted:

We need the wet vac from the house to suck out the drain on the ac in the shop... ASAP

Water on the floor

Also, we need a 20 x 20 air filter for it

After I got showered, I got myself together. I was in the middle of getting dressed when I hear the motorcycle pull into the garage. SHIT!!! Shit! Shit! Shit! I ran around like a crazy woman while throwing on whatever I could find so it at least looked like I had been ready and just not left yet. But no...He found me in the closet, throwing my shirt on and looking for my pants. He was not happy. I looked at him with a half sorry look, half nervous smile. He gave me his disappointed look, put the shop vac in the car, and left to deposit a check I was already supposed to have done. Not only was I busted, but he was clearly not happy with me. I texted him after I got into the car:

I'm sorry I missed your call and your texts. I was in the shower. I know that's no excuse as I should've showered earlier. I'm sorry.

And then it happened. I thought I was going to get my computer taken away for a week or maybe a punishment spanking (okay, don't roll your eyes at me), but no. What happened was far, far worse. He texted me:

I'm not upset that you were in the shower and missed the text. You could've missed a text or call for lots of reasons.
I came home with an expectation that I would have to tie the shop vac to the bike, but instead I found you still getting ready. I'm very frustrated right now with the situation you are putting me in. I do not want business matters to get between us because I know that's what killed my parents relationship. I love you and need you.

I was crushed. All I could do is cry. Couldn't I just have a spanking instead? Take away my computer please. His parents were a much different story than us, his father being an a$$hole and yelling at his mother, who in defense, committed fraud amongst other nefarious deeds. This is totally not us. I couldn't believe that he was so disappointed in me that he would bring up his parents.

My wonderful and loving assistant saw that I was upset and comforted me. She reminded me that I've just had a pretty heavy load set on my shoulders and it will take time to get used to it, but until then it's no wonder I drag my butt in late. Who wants to come to a place and be in charge when so many things go wrong at once and so many decisions have to be made and there is a struggle to keep enough of a balance in the bank account to pay employees.

What Hubby has grown from 2 1/2 years ago (which was not much of anything when I handed it to him to concentrate on the graphic arts and marketing of the business) has grown tremendously. While he has had all this time to get used to the weight building on his shoulders, he expects me to just take it and run with it.

We went to lunch to talk about it and he said something that kind of pissed me off. He said that if I'm stressed or having problems I should let him know so he can help me. That is all I've been doing since he got back from Canada. I IM or text him constantly with what's going on in the shop and he just sends me back a smiley emoticon with a half-hearted encouragement like, "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

He agreed to listen more closely and help me make the decisions until I can carry the full weight on my own. He also said that when it comes to business, he won't push me to do anything I don't want to do. He would just as soon close the business down and I could get a part time job doing something else. I don't want that.

I promise that from now on I will be to work on time and I will let him know that I need his help instead of just whining about it. Lessons learned.

(Not) Sitting Pretty

I went shopping yesterday for a replacement hairbrush since my last one cracked. I also bought a new wooden spoon that in no way could be confused with one from the kitchen. I told Hubby that I really needed a long, hard "vacation" and he was happy to comply. As long as the spanking is sexual in nature, and a pleasurable experience, he is willing to give it a go.

I asked him to tell me what implement he was using so I could judge the pain levels for future reference. He spanked me for about 30 minutes and toward the end I was thrashing about as he was holding me down. He did really well. I'm very proud of him for sticking it out as long as he did. We kept checking in with each other. He wanted to know on a scale of 1 to 10 how I was feeling. I would in turn ask him how he was feeling, making sure that the experience isn't too much for him.

In between series of swats, he massaged my burning bottom, occasionally fingering me or inserting our favorite new toy (a vibrator with bumps and ribs) before starting again. His favorite implements? The new hairbrush and spoon of course! I don't know how many swats I received. I couldn't count them. I was trying to experience the pleasure in the pain. I was also trying to figure out what "sub space" is, but I couldn't find it. The pain kept me very present.

What started off as stinging pain that faded into a warm feeling all over my bottom, ended up as peaks of pain I can't quite explain, that, when he was finished with each round of spanks, turned into numbness. He kissed my glowing bottom several times and his whiskers poked at me, giving me an entirely new sensation. The spanks became more and more painful, almost intolerable. I couldn't see how anyone would ever get to that place of serenity and become limp.

Maybe it's because this wasn't a punishment, so my head wasn't in the right place to accept the pain as such, and therefore it hurt in just a physical way instead of emotional as well? Do you only experience "sub space" when your emotions are at a particular place? Can I experience it when it's meant to be a pleasurable spanking? If so, how?

Because there was no emotional release, I don't feel light as a feather today. I feel my sore bottom every time I sit. Don't get me wrong, that has a pleasure all it's own because it reminds me of last night and the gift my lover gave to me. But I would love to find that space or release I crave. Any suggestions?

As for my new friends, the hairbrush and the spoon, I would say that I prefer the hairbrush. It definitely provided more sting. The spoon was a deeper kind of pain. Don't get me wrong. I liked it too. Of course now I'm considering other implements, ones that would have to be purchased from a specialty store; a real paddle and a strap. Or maybe not... If Hubby ever does get it in his mind to punish me with a spanking, I just may regret it. He knows where the sit spot is and he spends most of his time there.

Is it weird that after last night's spanking, and the bruising I have this morning, that I want more? I feel a bit insatiable right now. But I'm definitely not sitting pretty. I gots me some sore buns this morning!

A New in Rent-A-Cop Town

Just had a wonderful Mexican lunch with Hubby. Margaritas make conversation smoother, that's for sure. Hubby had been thinking about something and decided to bring it up at the bar where we were lunching. The man has no idea how loud his voice is, I swear. He brought up a different idea, a sort of compromise if you will, to fit my needs. He started off by saying, "When I was young, my parents made me pick the consequences for certain things." Suddenly my heart leapt with excitement. Is he willing to try? "But I won't give you a physical consequence." Never mind...Sheesh... He started to tell me how the punishment could be something as simple as taking away my phone for the evening. I gasped. "Aha! See?" he quipped.

In a nutshell, he wants me to pick areas I know I need to improve upon (ie. getting to work on time) and pick the consequence (he really doesn't like the word punishment) for my action. He will enforce the consequence. BUT... He wants me to do the same for him. Now while I appreciate his desire to work together, I need him to be HoH. I can't punish the HoH. That's not how it works! Grumble...

Can't there just be a spanking so we can get it over with? Nope. He doesn't want to mix pleasure with punishment and he doesn't want to ever spank me as a consequence of something I've done wrong. We both agreed it's a start...this nonphysical consequence thing. "It's like having to go out and pick your own switch, isn't it?!" he joked. Yeah...something like that...only without the quickness and surety of a sore bottom to remind me. I won't have the tears to caution me that I don't want it to happen again. I won't feel like he has the strength to master me.

Something is better than nothing, right? It's a step in the right direction. Although I wasn't looking to be accountability partners. I just wanted him to take the pressure off of me, so I could stop beating myself up emotionally about what a wreck I am. I know I have to give it some time. Patience is not one of my finer qualities. Not by a long shot.

I was eager to go home an spend a little quality time with him after lunch. I didn't need much time, just enough to smooth out my rough spots and make me quiver. He refused. He knew I hadn't been in the office all day and that I had to get some work done. I was crushed. I hate being rejected. So I came to work and decided to blog about our lunch. I know I need to get stuff done. I'm just sooooo tired.

Last night I woke up at 3 am and couldn't get back to sleep. I decided to hop blogs until I got tired. You can see my new additions over there ---->

I have to go to work now.* Can I dig in my heels and say I don't wanna? Yeah, that's what I thought... Bye friends.

* I forgot to add this when I wrote the post earlier

Off My Rocker

This morning, Hubby made me breakfast and coffee. He's never done that before (the breakfast anyway), or at least not in a very very very long time. I think the silence we had last night as we lay in bed had something to do with it. I'm angry at his refusal to help me with my needs and he's confused about why his wife would want such a thing. Even I question in. Domestic Discipline? Seriously??? What kind of crazy person am I anyway? I'm obviously not in my right mind. I want to be punished? What would my therapist say? (No way in hell I would ever tell her)

I'm trying hard to see it from Hubby's point of view. His wife just asked him to hurt her physically, to punish her. Everything screams that it's wrong and abusive and, well just wrong. He doesn't like this side of his wife. It's one thing to spank her during sex. That's fun and she enjoys it. He doesn't want to do something that she won't enjoy. He doesn't want to make her cry. They get along so well... Why mess with a good thing? He doesn't want to take on some sort of father role with his wife. She's his partner for goodness sake! They lean on each other. He doesn't feel strong enough to be the leader and his word is the final word and that's it. He's not a tyrant. He just wants his normal wife back. What happened to her?

Hubby doesn't have any really close friends. He has a few guys that he doesn't mind hanging out with now and then, but no one he can really confide in when it comes to this stuff. There is no one he can call up and say, "Hey. So my wife wants me to start being the head of the household, including punishing her for not following my rules. What do you think of this? Is this normal? Has she gone completely off her rocker?" Who can he turn to? He doesn't want to research it. He will read the links I send him, but he doesn't like what he reads most of the time.

I feel bad for him. I do. But I feel bad for me too. I feel like I'm being robbed of this experience. He's refused to help be become a better person, a better mother, and a better wife. I can't do it on my own. I need his help. I need his loving guidance.

I am an all or nothing kind of girl. My first instinct after he told me "No" last night was to pack up all my toys and put them high up in the closet. You know...out of sight, out of mind. I decided against it when I saw my broken hair brush. It somehow got cracked and we can't use it any more. I've been contemplating a replacement. Do I go shopping? Or do I just let it be as a reminder?

This post is getting a little too depressing for me and as usually I'm going to be a little late to work. At least my assistant will be late too.

Big hugs to all my new friends! I'm starting to feel like I belong, even though I am not practicing DD.

He Said No

He said no. Again. My heart is crushed into a million pieces and I want to cry. He says our relationship is a partnership and he doesn't feel comfortable punishing me. He said no. Again and again and again. My heart is broken. I can't begin to describe how I feel. Embarrassed. Shameful. Sad. Hurt. Afraid. Discarded. Alone. Rejected. I can't stop the tears.

What's worse? I knew he would say no. I knew he wouldn't agree to it. It doesn't matter what I want. He doesn't feel comfortable doing it. He is not dominant. He doesn't want to be HoH. I'm a strong woman, and I come from a long line of strong women. But I can't be strong in everything. I feel like I'm failing and I'm begging for his help and he said no. He thinks there are other ways to hold each other accountable. I don't want to do it that way anymore. It hasn't worked for the past 10 years, so what makes him think it will work now? I asked him to be at least willing to experiment. He said no. He's okay with experimenting in a sexual way, but not when it comes to other aspects of our life.

Oh my heart hurts so much. He and the boy are done showering so I have to go now. I'll try to write more later when maybe the sting of rejection is faded a bit.