If you haven't yet read
Fantasy Boot Camp Part 1, please do so now. It explains in detail about what my
fantasy of boot camp with my husband could be like. It's not a typical girly-girl fantasy. I decided to go more realistic.
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The alarm beeped loudly and annoyingly at 6:30 am. Since the kids weren't home, I saw no reason to get up so darn early. Hubby had set the alarm. Just as I reached for the snooze button, he said, "Turn it off and get out of bed. Now." I whined in my classic I-don't-wanna-and-I'm-gonna-pout-til-you-feel-sorry-for-me-and-give-in way. It had no effect. Apparently he had already gotten up, showered, and dressed. He ordered me into the shower and don't I dare get back into bed. There was work to do! Ugh...
I did as I was told. When I exited our room, he immediately escorted me out the door. We were going to take a nice brisk, early morning walk. He explained to me that from now on, and he would add it to the rules list, that I was to get up when the alarm went off and not a minute later. No more snooze button. I grew indignant at that new rule. One of my few pleasures in life is to purposefully ignore that blasted alarm clock. Now I was sure it would be the bane of my existence.
Our walk completed, it was time for our first homework assignment of the day. We decided to work on easier homework assignments since we determined that the corrective action assignments were all spanking and bound to be both mentally and emotionally taxing for both of us. He again prayed for our day, that we would become a stronger couple for Him, and finish out our boot camp with the love and respect that He intended for us. We each sat down and worked on our relationship components; rating the components and thinking up ways to improve those areas. As I delved into it, I realized that while a lot of things were near perfect, other's were far from it; patience and responsibility being the two I was most concerned with. It was very interesting to see how our views differed on this assignment.
At our breakfast break, I again toyed with my food. My mind was completely on our first corrective action spanking (CAS) exercise. We were instructed by the guide not to talk nor plan out this first session. We were to act as naturally as possible and do what felt right. But we often have different ideas about things. There was no way around it but through it. Hubby saw my nervous anticipation and decided to cut breakfast short for both of our sakes. We could get back to breakfast afterward.
He led me to the bedroom and instructed me to drop my pants. I did as he said, leaving my panties in place, and then bent over the bed. He told me to place my feet shoulder width apart as he placed his hand on the small of my back. My stomach clenched in anticipation of the first smacks. He started lecturing about my projects, because even though the spankings aren't supposed to correct a negative action, he can't spank without reason, be it for fun or for correction. His hand came down, swatting each cheek repeatedly, one blow following the next. Next, he brought out the leather paddle we call "The Motivator". While the swats were hard, they were few. He then pulled down my panties to reveal my slightly pink bottom.
He massaged my bottom and the tops of my thighs. He started to speak again about the importance of finishing what I started before swatting away again. He picked up the paddle once more and spanked, a bit more intense, yet few again. He massaged and talked again. He was bent over beside me, practically whispering in my ear as he rubbed the heat into my skin. He picked up the paddle and spanked the tops of my thighs, at that ever sensitive sits spot. My breath hitched with each blow. I wasn't sure what to think, so I savored it all and waited for it's climax. He laid down the paddle in favor of is favorite implement, "the Closer", a wooden paddle with holes throughout that left a sting you would not believe. A few spanks with it and I was practically jumping in place. He bent beside me and held me. He hated to see me in pain, which is why we had never done a real CAS before. Hubby can be so empathetic, it often gets in the way of the responsibility to enforce necessary actions.
He stood me up, turned me around, and had me sit next to him at the end of the bed. He held me tight as we slowed our breathing together. Emotionally I was nowhere near tears and the physical sting only lingered seconds really. I've had more intense spankings during our TnT sessions. He asked me if I would rather eat or talk now. I needed a few minutes to collect my thoughts before we delved into the particulars of our first spanking of the day, so I opted for eating. I chewed quietly, thoughtfully, as did he. I tried to order my thoughts so I could speak effectively. I knew this first time wouldn't go as I had planned so carefully in my head, but it was as much my fault as his.
We decided to lay on the bed together. We held hands and stroked each other as we talked. This intimate pillow talk is how we dealt with most things of this nature. He was very receptive to all I had to say about the spanking. I needed him to be less empathetic and more strict disciplinarian. I wanted future CAS's to be dramatically different and easily separated from our TnT and play time spankings. In my mind, there had to be a contrast or it wouldn't be effective. In essence, I needed the CAS to be something I feared so that I would stay properly motivated. I assured him that it wasn't he I would fear, I could never fear him. He's my love. But the CAS should be feared. I'm not afraid of a few swats. I'm not afraid of the suggestion that it could be worse. And I told him to not stop just because I was yelling "Ow!" and "Owieeeeee" and "Ouch". It's supposed to hurt. This is supposed to cause outbursts of "Ow!" and "Stop" and "I'm Sorry!!!" and "I promise" and tears and sobbing. That doesn't mean it stops short. It needs to play through to completion.
On his end, Hubby needed me to stay still and not jump around so much. I said that all I could do is try. Reminders during the CAS would be helpful. He promised to help me remember. It sounded more like a threat to me though. He told me he could tell I wasn't in the right mindset to receive a CAS. It may have been nerves, but our next one should prove to be better, maybe even easier for both of us. We hugged and held each other for several minutes, breathing in unison.
It was time to get up and start the next homework assignment. I was very happy about this one since it was right up my alley; crafting! We were going to put together a date night jar. He would type out ideas for date nights, print them out, and cut them into slips for each idea. I got to decorate the jar. Yay! So I went a little crazy at the craft store for this one. It was a mini project and I got to use my glue gun. Nothing makes me happier than my glue gun. The only thing we needed to do was set a date night and get a steady babysitter. A few phone calls and we could have the answer by the end of the day. Mission accomplished. We both knew the importance of continuing to date each other. We certainly couldn't afford to not put us as a priority.
For lunch we decided to go out and get some fresh air. Well, as much fresh air as we could get at our favorite Cheers-like hang out. We ordered our usuals and made chit chat with the other regulars. It was a relaxing time and great to get out of the house, even if just for a little while. We stopped at the store so we could get a few things to enjoy for dinner and celebrate the night after completion of boot camp. Coming home meant one thing; time for CAS exercise 2. I didn't have high hopes about it and really just wanted to get it over with.
I sighed as we entered the house. We put away groceries and he leaned in for a kiss. Both of us knew what was coming. He hugged me and said that we should get it over with. I sighed again, my heart in my throat. We entered the room and he instructed me to get ready. I pulled down my pants and assumed my position bent over the end of the bed. As he lightly rubbed his hand over my panties, he asked why we were "here"? I told him that we were addressing my need to start projects but never finish them. He said that a lot of what he was about to say would be repeating his earlier lectures, but that he felt it was warranted considering my lengthy history with this particular issue.
His hand started swatting like it was on a mission to light a fire with the radiant heat that would soon emanate from my punished bottom. Once he moved to the leather paddle, I knew I was in for it. The swats were hard. He didn't hold back. It was if he had a number in his head and he was sticking to it no matter how much I yelped. The panties came down and rubbing and hand-swatting alternated as he punctuated his statements. I was not getting out of this one. He had taken a whole new attitude. He reminded me of the time he was helping me move out of my apartment and into his and how he made me throw away 3 large bags of jeans I had saved up to make a denim quilt. He said that he wished he knew then that a spanking would've saved him years of frustration and me years of guilt.
He grabbed the leather paddle and spanked in earnest. I started to jump but he swatted lower on my thighs and warned that unless I wanted more there, then I should stop. I moaned and whimpered in frustration. I couldn't catch my breath. He stopped just short of me apologizing profusely and begging him to stop, like he knew I was at a breaking point. He rubbed my red cheeks and started talking again. His words grew in intensity and strength and meaning. I had no doubt in my mind that he didn't want to have this talk again, but he would if I pushed it. Even with my mini project we just completed, I had left a mess in my wake. He let it be known that he would not put up with it any more. The third volley of swats with the leather and then the wooden paddles had me gasping for breath. I had made it past my anger to a space where the tears were about to come. A burning sting radiated through me. With every spank of the wooden paddle, I came to understand the need for this. It was slowly erasing my guilt.
Hubby dropped the implement in his hand and collapsed on top of me. He held me tight once more. He felt this punishment as surely as I did. We knew, as we looked into each other's eyes, that this CAS was finished, but the issue was not over yet. We had to do this one more time before the day was done. Neither of us wanted to. But boot camp isn't about what we want to do. Hubby, having been through 3 separate boot camps for different reasons (beginning, school, and something else I can't remember), knew from experience that it's about tearing us down and building us back up stronger and better than before. And it was equally hard on both of us. I may have to endure 3 pretty intense spankings when all is said and done, but I'm learning so much about being submissive and what to fear and what to respect. He is learning that he has to be strong and be a man of his word in this, even though he desperately doesn't want to. I became awed over the strength that he had to possess in order to accomplish this task. He was my rock and forever would be. My love for him poured out in kisses all over his face.
A short rest and we were ready for the next homework assignment; Bible verses. Because the assignment was relatively short, we decided to come up with a plan to put our spiritual lives first. We outlined an evening ritual for prayer and bible study. We wanted to include God more in our lives. We had been grossly negligent in that aspect and it showed in the way our home looked, in our financial situation, and in our parenting. Such simple principles seemed so hard for us to navigate. And now we are dealing with the outcome. But it wasn't to late to change. Our lives would be the better for it all. We just needed this boot camp experience to push us in the right direction, and then use the momentum to better all aspects of our lives. This wasn't because I am a "spanko". There's plenty of time for that when we have our adult play time. This was for us, all of us. With strength and discipline, we could make this work.
I made a salad while Hubby grilled steak. He's perfected steak grilling over the years. The right cut, the right seasoning, the right grilling time... He had it down. I was happy just to put a simple salad together and some instant mashed potatoes. Hubby put on some soft music in the background. I felt like it was our first date all over again. It felt as though we had a fresh start. Even though we knew each other for years, we were new again. We smiled at each other, made small talk, shared inside jokes. We talked about what we would most like to watch after we were done with our last assignment; most decidedly something light and funny. Snacks and dessert. Comfort to come.
At the announcement from Hubby that it was time for our final CAS, something in me snapped. I had such a good time at dinner and I didn't feel like having a CAS right then. I got downright cranky. This is when Mr. HoH/Drill Sergeant decided to take me in hand once and for all. He backed me up against the wall, pinning me there with his weight, and towering over me, he bored holes through my eyes into my soul. He said, "You will obey me!" and I melted into a puddle of submission. He saw in my eyes that he had conquered me once and for all. Now it was just time to get down to the business that neither of us wanted to, but this
was boot camp and it
was getting done. This was a taste of what was to come if I chose to disobey. I was going to get what I wanted; fear of that kind of spanking. I may have already been sore from earlier "exercises" but even in real boot camp you will do pushups with sore and tired arms until you are crying in pain and then even past that.
I assumed the position; pants down, legs apart, hands on the bed above my head. I couldn't tell if my heart was beating fast or had stopped completely. I know I stopped breathing. He told me he was sorry he had to do this, but it was necessary. It was the only way to get through to me that this project problem had to stop. I was no longer allowed to start any project without his permission first, no matter how small or insignificant I thought it was. I was to start completing past projects, starting with the ones stacked in our closet. Each project I presented for completion would be approved by him and a time limit set. It was no longer a matter of whether the project was important or necessary. It was the principle of it. Finish what you start. He asked if I was ready and with a deep breath I said I was.
He swatted with his hand the already sore areas of my rear. I winced and whined. He started his lecture anew, emboldened by his triumph over my will. "Why are we here?" he asked. "Because I...ow...I...uh...my unfinished projects" I managed to get out between swats. "Why else?" he prodded. "Because from...owwww....now on....ahhhh...I have to ask...owieeeee...permission to start....oooooohhhh...projects" I said through gritted teeth. "Are you angry?" he asked, but didn't wait for my answer. "Because I am. All these years. All this clutter. It's not acceptable and I won't put up with it any more." And with that he yanked down my panties. He brought out the leather paddle again and rubbed my flaming cheeks with it's cool smoothness. "What are we going to do about it?" he asked as he kept rubbing. I must've hesitated a second too long because the paddle came down on me as he punctuated each word of his question again. "What" smack "are" smack "we" smack "going" smack "to" smack "do" smack "about" smack "it?" smack-smack-smack. I was nearly out of breath as I clenched my jaw and the words "finish what I start" dripped with venom from my lips. He paused.
My attitude was clearly in need of adjusting. While I was tired of the subject, I had not yet submitted to his lead. In my head I had thought of dozens of ways around this new rule. I didn't want to submit to it. After all, I can speed just enough to not get caught. Where there's a will... My thoughts were broken by the crack of the wooden paddle on my flesh. "You will obey me in this." he said matter-of-factly. He had found a rhythm with this tool and planned to use it effectively. His words poured out over me seeking to reach the depths of my soul. Over and over he told me that he loved me but this attitude was going to stop. He needed me to accept his lead in this matter. That the expense and the clutter hurt us both. And that if I was watching our children at all, I could easily see that my actions were infecting them. At the mention of our children, I broke into a thousand tiny pieces. Tears poured out. I couldn't hold back the gut-wrenching sobs. My guilt that I had largely ignored was finally coming to the surface. It just needed a way out to make a change.
He stopped the swatting and with one hand on the small of my back to keep me in place, he used the other to stroke my hair. "That's my girl" he said so sweetly and lovingly. "I want you to know that I love you
so much. I'm sorry, but this next part is not going to be easy for either of us. And when we are done, I will hold you and we can talk." And with that, I heard the jingle of his belt and I knew. There was no going back. This is how it would be from now on. This was something to fear. And what made it all the more agonizing was knowing that
I did this. Me. I was the cause of emotional distress. And when I do things like that, this is what
will happen. No more conniving. No more sneaking. No more lies. All is laid bare.
He wielded the belt lightly at first and then increased the intensity as he laid his final points to rest. The pain was unquestionably different from any that our other implements induced. It was an ache that I never wanted to experience again and would at all costs avoid. And that was the point, was it not? For both of us to experience what a real corrective action spanking would be like? So different in every aspect that it could not be confused with anything else? There were no more questions. There was no more talk. The last slaps of the belt met a resounding echo of sobs and apologies. Hubby picked me up and held me. He covered me in kisses as he rubbed my tender flesh. We had come through it. We were strong. I had a deep respect for my husband. He could and would spank me. Because I asked him to. Because I needed him to. Because it was
best for us and our family. This time it was I who was proud of him. He did the
right thing. Upon telling him this, he sighed deeply and buried his head into my chest. I stroked his hair and kissed his head. One last squeeze and it was time to do one last homework assignment and then we were home free.
We finished out our boot camp experience with a Domestic Discipline Anniversary Letter. It was hard to imagine what one year later would look like. How many times did I break rules? How many times would I face the corner, or worse yet, the belt? I had imagined though that through it all I would come out a shining example of a wife and mother. For the betterment of all of us.
The rest of the night we laid in each other's arms. We skipped the movie, snacks, and ice cream. Instead we made sweet, tender love. We were both spent, our boot camp now over and the opportunity of a new life in front of us. I stayed in Hubby's capable arms all night; happy, content, cherished, loved...
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There is so much more to the
Domestic Discipline Boot Camp for Beginners guide by Clint and Chelsea at
Learning Domestic Discipline than I "experienced" here. I encourage you to get a copy for your own. You will see that along with an outline of how it should go, there are several more punishment choices and dozens of exercises to chose from.
Buy the book and the accompanying workbook if you are at all interested in this. It's not for everyone, but they really did do a good job with this book. I'm glad I bought it!
PS. No, I did not receive any sort of compensation for my endorsement. I wrote this solely because I believe it would work for me.
