Different Strokes for Different Folks

I have been thinking lately about all the different kinds of spankings that we have in our relationship. They each serve their own purpose, but all lend themselves to the common goal. For me, that's feeling safe, loved and secure in our relationship. For him, thats feeling accomplished in making me happy and meeting my needs, and feeling loved and respected. At least that's what I hope he feels.

There are good girl spankings, when I've done something good that wasn't necessarily expected of me, or when I go above and beyond what I was supposed to, or just when overall I've been good. I love love LOVE good girl spankings. They start out slow and soft, gradually building intensity and pace. There's lots of rubbing, and special touches. Generally, I can take much more during a good girl spanking than I can during a punishment. Afterward I feel warm and connected to my hubby, and always in a touchy feely mood. There is almost always love making after this kind of spanking.

Then there are bad girl or punishment spankings. These, I don't like so much. In fact, the only thing I do like about them is that they clear the air, and assauge my guilt for whatever particular thing I am being punished for. I tend to put up walls during a punishment spanking, and I fight the pain. In order for that wall to be broken down and my feelings met head on, I need to be reached on an emotional/psychological level. I need to be spoken to, to hear why I'm being punished, and to be told that I am expected to do what I am told. It is harder for me to keep position. I wiggle more, my hands come back, my feet come up..I don't mean to, I think subconsciously it's my way of trying to maintain even the smallest shred of control. I need to feel more dominance from J in these situations, than in a good girl spanking because I almost need to be forced to let go of control.

There are maintenance spankings each Saturday (or Sunday depending on our schedules) night. These serve to keep me on track. I need to be spanked fairly regularly, and I get sad and floaty when I'm not. These help with that immensely. We also usually address smaller issues (like being sassy etc) during these spankings if need be. They help remind us both of our roles, and reconnect us after a long week.

We also have spankings that fit into neither of these categories. There's what I call the quickie spanking, a dozen or two or three swats before J goes to work. He often tells me they're so I'll remember. Sometimes it's so I'll remember to be good, or do something I'm asked. Sometimes it's to remember how much he loves me. These are my absolutely favorite spankings. They leave my bottom stinging but not sore, and I feel warm and glowy for quite some time after he leaves. I feel clear headed and balanced, and more motivated to do things throughout the day/night while he's gone. It helps me focus. Then we have spankings when I am stressed out, overwhelmed, or sad. These particular emotions tend to be heavier at times than I can handle, and the longer they go unchecked, the stronger of a hold they have on me. I get swept away and I need to be spanked to pull me back out of the swirling tornado. We don't have a name for these spankings, but both of us are getting better at identifying when they are needed. They tend to be more intense and often more severe than a punishment spanking, but they have a significantly different atmosphere to them. It is a safe place for me to face these emotions, to handle them without fearing that they will over power me, knowing that J is there and that we will deal with them together. I can allow myself to deal with it and move on, to let go.

After every spanking, whether it be a good girl, a punishment, or a stress relief, J always holds me and tells me he loves me. Often he'll rub lotion on if it was a particularly hard spanking, or if I ask him to. Even after a quickie spanking I'll get a kiss and the reaffirmation that I am loved.



I realize that just as every relationship is different, TTWD has a different meaning in each relationship. It is molded and reformed to fit the needs of the people involved. Some couples only have discipline spankings. Some only have fun ones, and others yet have more types than I have mentioned here. Thats what makes it special, I think. Each dynamic is different and works for all of us in different ways, but underneath, were all the same.

He's getting good ...

This morning, I was woken up my the roommate's dog. NOT HAPPY. He is sooooo effing lazy when it comes to taking care of his dog it's incredible. She was crying for a half hour, WAILING, to be let out of her crate to go outside. After the first five minutes, I was about to get up and take her out myself, when I heard my roommate open his bedroom door, so I assumed he was going to. WRONG. I heard him moving about the house for another 20 or so minutes, even feeding the fish before taking his dog outside. How freaking inconsiderate. HELLO, you do not live alone, and the pregnant girl doesn't sleep well at night!!!!! WTF. Ok, glad I got that off my chest.

So anyway, after laying awake for another half hour, trying to make myself fall back to sleep, I gave up and went out to the living room. The roommate had left for work (the one day of the week he isnt working from home,) and his dog was whimpering in her crate again. I let her out and played with her for a little bit, then took her for a walk around our neighborhood before putting her back in her crate so I could try to sleep on the couch. I drifted off for a little bit, then woke up to J coming back into the house. I lifted my head and looked at him, and he told me he was going to the hardware store in a few minutes. I asked why, and he told me he was going to buy some materials to make a loopy johnny. I decided to go with him.

He found an random handle that something had been broken off of. It had a screw in the top, and he decided it was perfect. Since it was broken, we didn't have to even pay for it. Then we went to Lowe's, and he bought some 1/4" vinyl tubing. The whole time we walked around the store he sang a jingle he made up about spanking my bum. Greeeeeaaaat. He was a little too excited about this, if you ask me. Anyway, we got home and he made the darn thing in like 15 minutes! Geesh. I was in the middle of eating lunch when he finished and he came into the living room and made me lie on the couch so he could give me a few practice swats. OUCH! He decided he wanted to modify it, and left me in peace to finish my lunch. After fixing it to his liking, he sat down with me and ate, then rushed me to finish mine so he could spank me again with it. I swear, the man's losing it. He let me keep my sweatpants up, thankfully, because that thing stings like the devil! For the last few swats he wanted to "try it on the bare butt", and those were torture! And he was going light. Crap. He thought I was kidding about how much fuss I was making, so I told him to smack his hand with it, and he did, and got an evil grin and said, "Oh yeah, it's got some sting. I think I like this thing!"

Let me tell you, I'll be on my best behavior as long as this things around!!

Me and my darn mouth!

Lately, I've been sending J blog entries that I particularly like/relate to, and he's been reading them. Well, brilliant me had to go and send him one that had an idea in it that he liked just a little too much. This afternoon, we were making lunch together and I playfully said something sassy. He then informed me smugly that he wanted me to make "punishment cards" detailing specific punishments. (Thanks Audra! ;p ) I thought he was kidding! Nope.

He told me I was to make up seven cards. They were to detail specific implements, number of swats or minutes with each implement, and severity. "They're not going to be used every time, but we'll keep them in the punishment drawer and I'll tell you when you need to choose one." I nodded, still shocked into silence. He went on to say, "However you might just be choosing one tonight."

"What! Why?" I pouted.

He looked at the coffee table, covered in papers, dvds, and books, among other things. "Didn't I ask you to do something a few days ago?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Did you do it?" he asked.

"No sir," I answered quietly.

He nodded his head, a tight lipped smile on his face. "Huh. There's a chance for slight redemption, but even if you clean it today, you're not going to be off the hook." he informed me, reaching over and lacing his fingers with mine.

I blushed, not used to him being this forward about being in control. When he got up to get changed for work, I followed him into our bedroom like I usually do. I like to steal kisses and gentle touches while he's changing ;)

When he took his shirt off, I hugged him, pressing my face against his bare chest. I love the feeling of his warm skin against my face. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, kissing me on the lips. "Don't forget those cards," he reminded me, and reached down to squeeze my butt. Then he turned me around and bent me over, telling me to put my hands on the bed. He gave me a dozen smacks and reminded me to clear the empty water bottles off the bedside table, then let me back up. After he finished changing, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on the top of my head. I soaked the moment in, because I really cherish these moments we have together before he leaves for the night.

Once I was alone, I started trying to brainstorm for the cards. Well, I was just stumped! I never imagined how hard it would be to create punishments for myself, until I tried to do it. I emailed back and forth with Audra for a bit to try to get some ideas, and she gave me plenty of good ones! I sat down and tried again to write some up, but was still at a loss. We have a variety of implements, and I couldn't figure out how to some how to incorporate the majority of them. Plus, I have a pretty high tolerance, and most of our play spankings are pretty extended so trying to figure out numbers of swats and times for punishment was difficult. I texted J and confessed I was having a hard time making the cards.

How come? What's troublesome? he asked.
Idk! I cant think of anything. I don't know how long, or how hard, etc. It's hard to come up with punishments for myself!
Being the sympathetic husband he is, he replied, Isn't that the point?
Ugh. I dont know how to make a pouty face via text but if I did I would soooo send you one right now!
He wasn't impressed with that. You don't want me to have to make them out, do ya?

Okay, okay. Point taken. So we decided I'd write out some ideas, and send them to him and he'd let me know if I was on the right track. He seemed pleased with what I sent him, and he told me to put them into the drawer for future use.

So, the cards are resting in the drawer with the dreaded implements that could be used to deliever the punishment. They are all pretty wicked in and of themselves, but for most cards there are a set of swats with one, two or three of the implements. And see that little tub of cream resting on that holey paddle? Thats called "spank me cream". It came in a sexy spanking kit that we bought at Spencer Gifts. IT MAKES YOUR SKIN BURN! Especially when applied over a spanked bottom. Yup-you guessed it! That made its way into the cards, too. Oh boy. I'm beginning to think I'm in over my head now...wish me luck!

The healing of a good spanking

Last night was just horrible. I couldn't sleep. Every year, I dread falling asleep on January 27 because I abhorr waking up on January 28th. In 2005, I woke up to the sound of soft crying in the living room, where my mother had been laying in a hospital bad for the past few days. Her organs were shutting down, and the doctors told us she'd have about two weeks to live. As soon as I heard the crying, I felt sick to my stomach. I knew that something just wasn't  right and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to pretend for just a few more minutes that nothing had changed. Then my dad came in my room and shook me awake, and said, "She's gone." That moment plays in my head each year when I wake up on this day. So needless to say last night I was fighting sleep, afraid to have to wake up and relive that again.

I lay next to J, staring at the wall. I could feel his eyes watching me, and he rolled over, putting his arm around me and kissing my forehead. I wanted to just pour my heart out, but I've kept it all in for so long, I couldn't let it out. He sat up and since I was already laying on my side, he started swatting me. I gripped his arm. "Ow," I moaned. He leaned down next to my ear and said, "I'm going to get the strap. I think you need a spanking." he murmured. I just blinked at him, thinking that he'd read my mind! I arranged my pillow and laid over it like a good girl while he went to the drawer and got the strap. He came back and sat beside me, pulling my shorts down. He applied the strap liberally, stopping after about five minutes to allow me to regain my composure and to give me a little break. After my break he gave me quite the strapping, which had me sobbing into my pillow. He pulled me into his arms and I cried for a bit longer,  finally releasing all the bad feelings that I'd locked inside. Afterwards, I felt SOOO much better. There's something about a good spanking that just puts me in an even headspace. I was able to fall into a deep sleep, managed somehow not to have nightmares, and woke up feeling relatively good, considering. I can honestly say the spanking made all the difference.

one of those days

I told J that although I hated to admit it, that I really needed a spanking. He agreed, I'd been really down lately and he'd noticed that I was starting to withdraw into myself. He promised that when he got home from work, I'd get the spanking I needed.

Yesterday was just one of those days. Next week marks the sixth anniversary of my mothers passing. It's hard to believe that six years have gone by since the day that she left us all. The wounds still feel fresh and raw, and contrary to what everyone told me, it has not gotten better with time. Over time, I finished highschool and never got to see my moms face in the crowd when I walked across the stage to collect my diploma. I started dating my now husband, and never got to get her opinion of him (though I know she would love him), or giggle to her excitedly about him at the beginning of our relationship before I knew where we were going in life. Over those six years, I got married to the most wonderful man in the world, and my mother wasn't there to experience her first born being united with the person that completes me. My sister graduated highschool, and my mom didnt get to tell her how proud she was that she'd worked so hard. I got pregnant, and have to miss out on hearing first hand stories about how my mom felt when she was pregnant with me, what it was like for her to have her first child. I cant call her up and ask her for advice or if I'm worried about nothing. It seems that instead of getting better, the years that pass only remind me more of what should have been. Sometimes, I feel like the lost 16 year old I was when my mom passed away, not knowing where or who to turn to. After she passed away, my dad acted like we shouldn't be affected by the loss of our mother. It was easier for him to avoid the situation and pretend everything was okay than to deal with the raw emotion of it all (especially of us four kids). I knew that this was unhealthy and being the oldest, I stepped in to bear the brunt of the emotional pain for my siblings. I listened to them and their fears and assured them that we could get through it together and that things would be okay. That left me unable to unload my feelings on anyone. After so long of bottling up my feelings about losing her, it's impossible for me to express how I feel about it. I havent been able to admit aloud that I miss her, maybe because I fear that I will lose control of my emotion and not know how to shut it off.

When he did get home, he showered and we laid together in bed for awhile. He held me close to him and we talked a little, and watched tv. He asked me what I wanted him to use, and I didn't respond. Now that it was coming down to the time of the spanking I was starting to feel apprehensive, like maybe I'd make a mistake asking for this. Without missing a beat, he informed me that he knew what he wanted to use, but he didn't want me to know until I felt it. That made me feel even more nervous but I kind of had an idea what he had in mind. "You need a good one," he murmured into my hair and I nodded, because as nervous as I was about it, I really did.

He announced that it was time, and patted my maternity pillow. (This pillow is so perfect for spanking, its a giant "U" shaped pillow, so lay my thighs across the bottom of the "u" and squeeze the other 'arms' beneath me, which leaves an open pocket for my belly). As I positioned myself over it, he got up and went to the drawer. I buried my face and just waited. He tugged my shorts down and tapped my bottom with the implement he'd chosen and I knew it was leather. I whimpered but didn't say anything. I can't figure out why everyone thinks that leather is nicer than wood but I DISAGREE! That man wielding leather is a scary thing. He rubbed my back and said, "For the first set we're going to do 50 on each cheek and then I'll give you a break." He started on the right cheek and at first I bucked beneath the sting but began to focus on breathing and just rolling with the pain and it didn't hurt so bad. It was actually pretty tolerable, and I started to feel good about it. The left fifty was just like this and when he finished those he rubbed my bottom, squeezing and massaging. "Now we're gonna do 60 and 60," he announced.  These were harder to take, but the pain was managable. I put my hands back a couple times and I thought about asking him to use something else if there were going to be more, but reminded myself that he was in charge, and the five fingered strap was what he'd chosen, and I'd just have to accept that. When he'd finished the 60 on each, he stopped but only momentarily. This break wasn't as long as the previous one, and when he told me that I'd be getting 75 on each I felt like I might just cry right then. "If you put your hands back I'm going to add another one each time." He started on the left cheek (the one he just finished the 60 on!) and I couldn't breathe my way through it anymore. I wiggled and drummed my feet on the bed but somehow was able to keep my hands in front of me. I didn't think I could make it through the 75 on the right cheek but I did. When he finished, he lay down beside me and stroked my hair. "I think you're done, right babe?" he whispered. When I didn't say anything, he said, "Does that mean you're not done? Do you need more sweetie?" I shook my head frantically, the tears coming now. He pulled me into his arms and I sobbed while he rubbed my shoulders, and whispered "It's okay baby, cry it out." I snuggled into him and he held me tight, and I felt so close to him that we could be one person. "Do you want me to rub lotion on you?" he asked softly. "Not yet!" I didn't want to leave his arms. We laid together for a long time, and he kissed my shoulders and stroked my hair and made it clear that he loved me more than anything in the world. Finally I was ready, and he got up and got some lotion and rubbed it on my swollen butt. We held hands and kissed and talked for a while before settling into our sides of the bed to sleep (I have to be curled up in my mat. pillow or I wake up every hour).

I can't help that I feel the absence of my mom weighing me down from time to time. I am lucky to have an amazing, loving husband who is strong enough to reach into the churning water when I feel like I'm drowning and pull me out, choking and sputtering, and wrap me in a warm blanket of love until  I see the beauty in my life.