And So It Begins ...

   I sent J the link to my post yesterday.
   He texted me back, saying, So you want one every day?
   My stomach twisted in knots. I did want them, so why was it so hard to admit that?  I replied with would you mind? Its obviously up to you how you decide to do it, but it doesnt need to be anything particularly long or hard. Idk what it is lately, but I've been feeling like I need them more often.
   I'll see what I can do.
   I thanked him up and down for being so understanding, and not thinking I'm crazy (though I'm sure he still does, he just would never admit it to me). He of course brushed it off, and told me he loved me.
   Later, when he got home, he held me and kissed my head, and told me that we'd be having them in the mornings when we get up. I agreed, and the subject was dropped.

   When I woke up, of course it was the first thing on my mind. I was a little nervous, because I had no idea what he was planning to do for these daily spankings.
   It was almost noon when we woke up, and J went to the grocery store to grab some food that he could make quickly for lunch and have enough left over to bring to work. When he got back, I asked about the spanking and he said since we got up late, I'd get it after lunch.
   We ate together, and then he made a plate up for work, and I put the rest of the leftovers in a tupperware container and stuck it in the fridge. As I was putting the pot in the sink, J came up behind me.
   "Let's go," he said firmly.
   I was filling the pot with soap and water so it could soak for a little bit, and I nodded. "One minute,"
   J stood beside me as it filled, then reached out and shut the water off. "Come on."
   Darn. No such thing as stalling today! I followed him into the bedroom, where he'd taken out the strap. I groaned.
   "What?" he asked, as I climbed up onto the love seat.
   "Nothing," I said quietly.
   He smacked me with the strap. "What did you say?" he asked, yanking my sweat pants down.
   "I didn't say anything!" I cried, as the strap caught the bottom of my left cheek.
   "You moaned something," he said firmly, bringing the strap down again.
   "Ow! I just moaned, I didn't say anything in particular..."
   He gave me a few more before asking, "Why did you moan?" the strap kept coming down.
   "Owww, because I don't like the strap! IT HURTS!"
   This seemed to be a satisfying answer, as he stopped asking questions. "Today, I'm going to give you 75 on each and then we'll be done."
   I didn't say anything, but by the third or fourth of the first 75, my hand had made it's way back to protect my poor butt.
   "Move your hands, babe."
   I did, but they didn't stay in front of me for long.
   "Move them!"
   "I'm sorry," I whimpered, moving them back in front of me. I tried my hardest to keep them in front of me, but the damn strap hurt SO bad today! My body wriggled and twisted to escape the blows, and J was getting frustrated.
   "Stop moving," he warned me.
   "I can't help it," I whispered. "I'm sorry," and I was. I really wasn't trying to move around so much, but my body had a mind of its own. I felt J's arm go around my waist and he lifted me up back into position, and held me there tightly while he delivered the rest of the first set. 
   The next 75 started on the other side and they came down fast.
   I did better staying still with these ones, but not much better. He didn't have to hold me in place, which I considered a good thing. My hands came back a few times. He warned me that he was going to hit them, and that was the last time they went back. I know at one point I said, "I can't," which wasn't true. It may have felt like it at the time, but I certainly was well within my boundaries. Not sure why today was so rough.
   Afterward, he put the strap away and called me to him. He held me close to my body and asked if that was a good start up to the dailys. I told him it was. He pointed out that I'd resisted a lot, and I apologized. It was unintentional. I told him it hurt a lot, and he reminded me that was the point.
   We went back to the living room to spend the last 45 minutes together before he had to leave for work. I laid with my head in his lap and we talked. I asked, "Do you think maybe I'm just sore from the other nights spanking and thats why it hurt so much today?"
   "The other night wasn't very hard," he told me matter-of-factly.
   "Yes it was!" I insisted. "You used the loopy, and I was crying way before that..."
   "I didn't use it for very long," he pointed out. "Maybe you're just sensitive today."
   I nodded.
   "Tomorrow, it's going to be something different." he told me. When I looked up at him, he asked if that made me nervous.
   I shrugged.
   "Why?" he asked.
   "Because I trust you." I answered, and it came from a place that I didn't know existed to the extent that it does. Usually, I would be nervous. However, I trust J to do what he feels is best, and I know that he'd never go beyond what I could handle.
   "Even if I told you it's something you don't like?"
   Normally, my insides would churn at this. I'd imagine the worst. Instead, I shrugged again.
   "You still trust me?" he asked, and I nodded.
   I pointed out that it was Saturday, and suggested that a morning spanking wouldn't be necessary since we'd be having maintenance. He agreed.
   "You're still getting your big one tomorrow night, though."

   Sitting on a still sore bottom, I'm thinking tomorrow isn't going to be pleasant. I looked at my butt after J left for work, and have a semi-circle bruise on my right thigh from the end of the strap. Ouchie. You can bet I did everything I was supposed to do today!

   I'm glad, however, that J decided to go along with the daily spankings. I'm hoping that as well as helping me stay level headed and relaxed, they will help him be even more comfortable in his role. He's been doing an excellent job, and I hope that he can see that the way I do. I'm so very lucky to have him!

A Weird Feeling

   So I got my good girl spanking last night. It was nice. He started out with the doubled pink strap, lightly, and it felt VERY good. There were some harder strokes but it felt good. He alternated between this strap and and his hand. Once my butt was warm and tingly, he had me stand up in front of him, and he strapped me. It wasn't very hard, but it did hurt a little. The mild pain quickly melted into pleasure, warming and caressing my skin. Then he had me get back on the couch, and after a little more spanking with his hand, he told me he was going to finish off the spanking with a number of things. I asked what this meant and he said he was going to get some implements, and I'd be getting sets of them. This made me a little uneasy for some reason, but I just nodded my agreement. I could hear him shuffling around in the drawer, and when he came back, I pushed my bottom out for him. As soon as I felt the first implement kiss my skin I jumped, saying "OUCH! What is that?!" and looking over my shoulder. The loopy.
   The tone of my spanking immediately changed. It felt all of a sudden like a bad girl spanking, and it broke my mindset. I lost the good feelings I had from the beginning of the spanking.
   He was using it lightly but it still stung. He only used it for a minute or two, then put it away, and started using the bigger hairbrush. He gave me slow, light, deliberate strokes and these felt good. I was a little surprised that it could feel good because usually the hairbrush hurts but it was totally different when being used nicely. I started to get back in the groove of the spanking, but I couldn't totally let go and enjoy myself fully. He then used the paddle, which also felt surprisingly good. I think there was another implement used as well, but I cant really remember.
   I laid beside him in bed for a bit, and we talked a little. He asked me if it was a good good girl spanking, and I confessed that it felt a little like a bad girl spanking. I told him that the loopy kind of changed the tone for me, and it was hard to get past that, but otherwise it was a very good spanking. 
   I still was extremely turned on from the spanking, as most good girl spankings leave me feeling, and I showed my appreciation.

   Long after the lovin was finished, I lay in bed thinking. It had seemed to me that J was sort of wanting to spank me harder than a good girl spanking warranted. I felt confused because I wanted a bit harder of a spanking as well, but was left feeling a little miffed that the spanking wasn't quite the good girl spanking I'd expected. Confused, I thought about it for a long time, and the conclusion I came to was this. Because I'd been promised a good girl spanking for doing all that I was supposed to, that's what I'd prepared myself for. So when it was a little harder than a good girl spanking usually is, I got thrown off track. Now, had J said something like "I want to spank you and it's going to be hard, but it's not because you were bad, I just want to..." that would have been a different story. I believe I still would have been extremely turned on, because I mean .. that's hot. I love when he flexes his dominance. MMM. SO long story short, I think I just put myself into a mindset before it happened and it wasn't a flexible enough mindset to accept the harder swats / the loopy johnny being introduced. Is that weird?

Taken Care of

   It's odd, how despite the dread I feel when I know I'm going to be punished, the relief and security I feel alongside it. I knew that I screwed up, which was the main reason I confessed to J about not sending the forms in. I could have just sent them yesterday without bringing it up, and if he ever asked if I sent them, I could have easily (and honestly) said yes. However, I also knew that I should have sent them probably last week, and I had made petty excuses about why I hadn't been able to fill them out and send them sooner. I deserved to be punished, because I hadn't taken his reminders to get it taken care of seriously. When I asked him to take control, and be the leader in our relationship, that meant that I was supposed to listen when he told me to do things, and I hadn't.

   After we'd had something to eat, sat together, and talked for a while, J asked me to get up and get him the cards. I did, and he fanned them out in front of his face, then held them out for me to choose one. I didn't take as much time this time as I usually do, and just plucked one of out of the group. Flipping it around, I read it. He asked what it said, and I handed it to him. He scoffed. "What the hell is this?!" he asked. "This is a wimpy one,"
   I shook my head. "You're the one who approved all the cards I wrote!" I cried defensively.
"I think you're getting off easily," he shook his head. "Go get the tools."

   I  got up, and went back to the drawer. I got the designated implements, and brought them to J, setting them on the bed beside him.
   Saying nothing, he nodded at the loveseat and I got into position, lowering my shorts.
   The cane hurt more than I expected it to. The strokes came fast and sharp, and I was trying to wiggle away before I knew what was happening. It was hard to control myself and I grasped at the couch to keep from putting my hands back. They wandered once or twice but I pulled them back in front of me just as quickly as they'd gone back. When he finished with the cane, I asked if I could hold on to my stuffed animal. (Yes, I still sleep with a stuffed animal, and sometimes during spankings I hold him so I'm not as tempted to put my hands back.) He graciously handed the stuffed animal to me. I have such a sweet hubby. The strap was terrible. It stung so bad and it was so hard for me to keep still and in position. It felt like it was falling on the same spot over and over, burning my skin. My right hand found a mind of it's own and flew back to protect my right cheek from the attacking strap. I heard J warn me to move my hand but I couldn't find the power to move it. Until the strap landed on my palm and suddenly, it wanted nothing but to be in front of me again.
   He delivered the rest of the strapping quickly and firmly.
   I was sobbing by the time it was over. I'd almost forgotten that the holey paddle was going to finish it off until it landed across the bottom of both my blazing cheeks. Thankfully there were only 15 total of those, and it was over soon enough. I cried into the back of the couch while J put the implements and the card back in the drawer. Then I felt him rubbing cream on my hot skin.
   He told me I could pull up my pants, and after I did, he pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. He asked if I was okay.
   I was. I stayed in his arms while I cried, until I calmed down and my breathing had returned to almost normal. When I went to the bathroom, I peeked at my bum in the mirror and it was an angry red. Redder than I've seen it in a while. It was hot and tender to the touch. Coming back to our room, I climbed onto the bed and cuddled into J's arms.
   We talked about the spanking. I told him I hadn't expected it to hurt so bad, and he agreed that he hadn't thought I'd react that way either.

   Even though sometimes it's embarassing for me, and I always feel a little ashamed, it feels good to talk about punishments and all other kinds of spankings after they happen. I believe it helps me to be more open about my needs. It makes me feel connected to my husband, even more so than the spanking does.

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.