Needing More

     The past week or so I've been down. Just not feeling "right", for no real reason at all. I've had plenty of spankings, some little .. some not so little. They were nice, but when they ended, I was left with that empty, confused feeling. Like, you know you should be happy but you're just .. not. I knew I needed more, but I didn't want to admit it. Didn't want to have to ask.
     Last night, I thought I could get myself spanked without having to actually ask for it. J and I were laying in bed together, my back pressed against his front. I kinda rubbed my booty on him and whispered, "I've been a bad girl."
     To my dismay, he replied, "No, not really..."
     My heart sank. Guys, if you have a spanko/submissive girl and she tells you she's been bad, she wants to be punished! sheesh. So, I rolled over and went to sleep.
     This morning, the baby fell asleep just as J was getting in the shower. I climbed into bed in just a tshirt and undies, and waited for J. When he came in the room, I crawled to the end of the bed and stretched out, leaving my bum exposed. He sat down next to me and started whacking me, pretty hard. Then he'd slow down and just give me love pats, which was frustrating the hell out of me. I really needed a good, hard spanking...and I just wanted him to know what I needed. Totally unfair, but that wasn't even a thought in my mind at the time. I was just feeling lost, and I wanted him to come find me .. to lead me home. I just got up and he stopped spanking me. I withdrew. He tried to ask me what was wrong and I couldn't give him an answer. It sounded so stupid in my head, 'you weren't spanking me hard enough, you weren't serious...' and I certainly couldn't say "I need a spanking."
    Later on, when the baby was having his second nap, he started asking me what I needed.
     I looked at him seriously and said, "I can't say it." I was texting with a friend while he was talking to me.
     "You can tell me." he insisted.
     I shook my head.
     He leaned over to see who I was texting with. He told me to tell her he said Merry Christmas.
     I added "J says Merry Christmas" at the end of the text I was sending in reply.
     She knew that he wanted my attention (she's a dd wife too, after all) and we ended our conversation.
     Even though I really didn't want to, honestly thought I couldn't, he made me tell him what I needed. Not just once, but he made me repeat myself because I 'wasn't speaking loud enough'.
"What do you need?" he'd asked. "Tell me."
     Finally, I whispered, "A spanking."
     "What?" he asked.
     "I just said it!" I cried, feeling my face flush bright red.
     "I didn't hear you, it wasn't loud enough."
     "A spanking," I said, just a little louder.
     "You need a spanking?" he asked, grabbing my bum.
     I nodded, avoiding eye contact. I was so embarassed.
     "What do you want me to use?" he wanted to know.
     I didn't want to choose. I didn't want control over anything. I told him, "Whatever you want to use."
     He went to the drawer, and picked out the five fingered strap and the naughty spatula. He sat in his computer chair, and motioned for me to come to him. At my whimpered protests, he shook his head and repeated himself, more firmly.
     The spanking started over his knee, with the naughty spatula. After a while this postion became harder to hold, and he had me bend over the arm of the loveseat. He continued for a bit with the spatula, then moved on to the five fingered strap.
      I did not take this spanking gracefully. I had to be told many times to move my hands. I cried out, begged him to stop. It hurt, but it wasn't bringing me to the place I needed to be.
     He talked to me, and asked me questions. He made me answer. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he said, "Twenty more of each." He delivered them firmly.
     When he'd finished, I was in that stage just before crying. I don't know if this happens to anyone else, but a lot of times before I actually cry, I "dry cry"...which means I'm basically crying, but there are no tears. I haven't fully let go. I lifted my head and watched him go to the drawer to put the implements away. I started to get up when I saw him pulling something else out .. the black strap. I whimpered. "Are you serious?"
     He looked at me, very serious indeed. "I think you need more."
     I buried my head, and thought I would cry right then. My butt already hurt and I didn't want any more.
     "Am I wrong?" he asked, bringing the strap down on my sore bum.
     I cried out, kicking my legs.
     He repeated himself, then added, "Answer me."
     "No sir," I answered softly, tears filling my eyes.
     He got down to business then, setting my backside on fire. He told me a couple times to keep my hands out of the way, then eventually pinned them behind my back with one hand while he strapped me. At one point he paused to pull my pants down.
      I started sobbing, and pulled my hand free, covering my burning cheeks.
     Thankfully, he stopped, and walked away to put the strap back. When he came back to me, he pulled me to a standing position and into his strong arms. "I love you baby," he murmured. "Are you okay?"
     "Yes sir, I love you too." I answered quietly through my tears. I cried for a few minutes, and felt much, much better afterward. I curled up on the bed, and he laid down beside me.
     "Was that what you needed?" he asked.
     I nodded. I was slightly embarassed, but I wanted to tell him anything he wanted to know.
     "What was it that did it, the little extra at the end to just set you over?"
     "I guess.."
     He held me, and hugged me, and kissed me. He told me how much he loves me. Then he showed me just how much he loves me. Reminded me that I belong to him, and he to me. It was just the reset that I needed.

Spanking and Tears

    I know I already touched on the subject of tears a couple months ago, but .. here I am again. I talked about how it used to be difficult for me to cry during a spanking, that it's easier now. This is not true. Now, before you get offended that I lied to you all, I thought that it was true. It seemed at the time I wrote the entry that it was true. However, I've noticed a pattern. I'll go a few weeks where I'm completely open, emotionally raw, and will cry pretty easily from a spanking. Then I'll go into a mode where it's nearly impossible for me to reach the point of tears.
     I have come to realize that it is not the severity of the spanking, or the amount of pain it produces, that brings me to tears. The pain is merely  a catalyst to the tears.  I can take quite a bit of pain during a spanking, especially when I'm told before hand how many swats/strokes I'm going to get. I can mentally work my way through the pain, fight it, because I rationalize that I've only got "so many" left before it's over. It's baffling as to why I do this, because I often crave the catharsis I get from the release of tears, and yet I fight the total loss of control that brings me to it.
    The emotion that is invoked while I'm being spanked is what brings the tears. If J is silent or doesn't say much throughout the spanking, it is very unlikely that I will even come close, regardless of how hard or long I'm spanked. It is even less likely that I will cry if the spanks are consecutive, no pauses in between. However, if he speaks to me, tells me that I'm being spanked because it's what I need, because he cares, because I didn't do something I was supposed to, or whatever the case may be, it's easier for me to reach a point where I will cry.


    Here's what happened to bring me to these conclusions. Lately, I have been on-edge. I've been stressed out, overwhelmed, and apprehensive. I believe these feelings are linked to the fact that our son is due in less than four weeks, and our life is about to change drastically. I'm very excited and absolutely can't wait for him to arrive, but at the same time, I know that change is inevitable. My relationship with J is going to change, and there's no way to predict what those changes will be. What I'm very hopeful for and what I expect will happen is that we will grow closer with the knowledge that the beautiful new life joining us is a product of our love and commitment to each other. What is more likely is that while our love may deepen, we will both be tired, irritable, and possibly irrational. We will snap at each other, misunderstand each other, and make mistakes. These things, I'm positive, are things that all new parents experience. What I'm afraid of is that in between diapers, feedings, spit up, and sleepless nights, we won't be able to find time for each other. That the little things that mean so much will slip through the cracks, the spankings will stop and I'll lose the feeling of stabilitly and security that comes with them. I'm afraid of losing the intimacy between J and I.
    I suggested the idea of daily spankings, because I thought they would help ease some of my obsessive worries. J agreed to do daily spankings, and they have helped some. However, I find myself wanting more. I wind up crying at night and I don't know why. I try to hide this from J because I know it would worry him and he would want to know what's wrong, and how could I possibly explain it when I don't know? I haven't cried from a spanking in at least two weeks, and I began wondering if this was the cause of my affliction. I (irrationally) have been feeling neglected and unwanted (as described in my last post), and have been physically craving J. It's difficult for us to make love or be intimate, between J's work schedule, our sleep schedule, and the fact that I am a blimp and just generally uncomfortable. However, I think our inability to have sex has translated into me needing more physical contact to feel like I am wanted and loved. We didn't have much time yesterday before J left for work for our daily spanking date, so J told me I'd be getting it before bed instead.
    We were laying in bed watching tv, and J asked me if I wanted to go to bed.
    I looked at him, confused, realizing with a sinking feeling that he'd forgotten about the spanking, and slowly replied, "Sure..."
    Recognition flashed in his eyes, and he said, "You have a choice."
    Immediately, I started closing up. I thought he might say that I "could wait until tomorrow" and have two, or something of the sort. Like skipping a spanking was even close to what I wanted. I started to feel sick to my stomach.
    "You can pick a card, or my choice."
    "What do you mean?" I asked softly.
    "Either you go get the cards, or I do what I want."
    Isn't that the point? I thought to myself. "I don't want to choose." I said, not referring only to that particular moment, but everything in general. Beneath those five simple words, I begged him to take control.
    "What does that mean?"
    "Do what you want." I mumbled.
    I assumed the position on the love seat, and he pulled my sweatpants down. Clutching my stuffed animal, I braced myself.
    He used the five finger strap for a minute or two to start off with, then started using the celtic lexan paddle. However, it was very thuddy and it worried me a little how heavy it was.
    "That's really heavy," I said. We hadn't used that paddle much so I dont think either of us realized how heavy it really was.
    He agreed, and put it away. In it's place, he brought out the loopy. He spanked me with that for some time, and while he spanked, he admitted that he'd almost forgotten tonight's spanking. "But you knew that already, didn't you?"
    I told him I did, and I forced myself to focus on the twinge of emotional pain that brought. I knew it wasn't his fault he'd almost forgot, usually we do the spankings before he goes to work. After working hard all night, and being tired, I'm sure it wasn't intentional. Nontheless, as always when a spanking is forgotten, there was a moment of feeling rejected. I held on to that, allowed it to chew through my protective layer, to let the pain seep in and blend with all the emotions that had been weighing me down. When I finally did, I felt the tears welling in my eyes.
    The spanking ended soon after I'd reached this point. Looking back, I wish I'd had just a bit more of spanking, let the pain carve a little deeper into my emotional pool. At the time, though, I just wanted to be in J's arms. He held me while I cried, and the tighter he wrapped his arms around me, the harder I cried. I felt close to totally losing control and sobbing, but reigned myself back in. J asked me if it hurt, and I assumed he thought it must have because I was crying, and I hadn't cried in some time. I was too teary to explain that it was the emotion that had made me cry, not the pain, so I simply just let myself cry softly into his chest. As I regained composure, I pulled myself away and noticed a big black splotch on his white shirt. I gasped.
    "I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, slapping my hand over the spot my mascara had left on his shirt.
    He assured me it was okay, and I went to the bathroom to clean my face off (and pee, obviously, since it had been over ten minues since the last time I'd gone LOL).
    When I came back to bed, I was feeling lighter, more secure, and closer to J. All my life, I've tried to hide my tears from everyone else in the world. It has always been easier for me to bury my feelings than suffer the indignity of dealing with them in view of others. Showing emotion was strongly discouraged by my father, so I learned very early on that I was better off dealing with it privately. I was (and often still am) ashamed by any display of emotion that may portray weakness. Therefore, crying makes me feel vulnerable. Being able to show that vulnerability and feel safe while doing so, draws me emotionally and psychologically closer to J. It's inexplicable, but a spanking that tears down my walls, drags me through my inner pool of darkness, and forces me to face the fears and anguish that live there bonds me to him. To make a long story short, I felt relieved after last night's spanking. I needed to feel vulnerable, and in turn be protected and feel safe in that vulnerability. The intimacy I feel through that process runs deeper and stronger than you could imagine if you've never been through it.

    Today, from an emotional stand point, I'm feeling great. I feel that I am able to face the change that our lives are going to meet and go with it. Everything is going to be okay, because J and I are in this together, and no matter what happens, we've got each other.

Thinking about tears & crying

I was on Fetlife today and read a thread that got me thinking about tears. I used to seldom cry during a spanking, and it happened even less often when I was actually being punished. I can take quite a bit when I'm being spanked, even if I feel like it's too much. I can't process any emotions or think about why I'm being spanked, because my mind focuses on fighting the pain, and not the actual reason for it. I cry much more often now, because J will give me sets of swats. Now that I have a minute or two between sets when my backside isn't being assaulted, I have time to consider what I've done, or the emotions I've got inside that I need to release, and I'm able to process these. The tears come even sooner when J talks to me in between sets about why I'm being spanked (if it's punishment), or about my sadness/grief/stress etc. I enjoy fun, erotic spankings that don't result in tears, but once in a while, this girl just needs to cry!

So, I'm curious to hear about everyone else's experiences. Do you cry often? Every time? Not at all? What elements to a spanking assist/hinder your process of getting to the point of tears?

Tolerance

I have been reading some of my older posts, and realizing how intense my spankings used to be before I got pregnant. It never dawned on me how much it took to get me to my breaking point. Most of those posts occurred in the earliest stages of our domestic discipline relationship, and I'm considering that one of the reasons it took so much for me to reach tears because J was the first man to ever spank me, and I was reluctant to let my guard down. I guess I didn't really truly and completely submit to my spankings / emotions during a spanking? Not sure if any of this makes sense. Of course, I attribute most of my lack of tolerance now to the hormones from the pregnancy making me more sensitive, but it's much easier for me to cry from a spanking/punishment than ever before. Just a bit of thinking I've been doing.

So turns out the new puppy brought kennel cough with her, and gave it to my doggy. The cold air only aggravated it more, making her sound like she was choking. She has to be on antibiotics for ten days, but she's just fine. Whew!

A new road to follow

    We got married last Thursday, at a quaint little inn called Angels Watch. The ceremony was small and simple, just the two of us, but we both dressed up; he wore a tux and I wore a gown my mother had bought in NY while shopping for wigs. She was going through chemotherapy and was anticipating the loss of her hair so she made a weekend of going to New York City to buy wigs with my sister, aunt and cousin. While there she saw this dress, there were only a few made and it was her size, so she bought it. She never used it, it just sat in her closet for years. When she passed away, I was 16 years old, and my grandmother gave the dress to me, in case I wanted to use it for prom or something. I never opened the bag again until Jack proposed, and when I looked at it, I realized how perfect it would be, and when I tried it on, it couldn't have fit better! We got married on my parents anniversary and it couldn't have been more special. Everything was just perfect. The inn was empty so we had the place to ourselves that night. We took a bath, and I got a lovely spanking, and we made love. We spent the weekend at a friends house a few miles from the inn we got married in, so we had to push back our saturday "reminder spanking".
    Jack had declared that I would get it Sunday night, but we were both tired from our long weekend. We'd gone to visit my father and went to dinner with our roommate after that. By the time we got home it was 10:00 and we didnt crawl into bed until at least 10:30. He told me to get up and go to the drawer but I asked if we could post-pone until today because I was falling asleep, and he kindly agreed.
     I got the spanking today after lunch, before Jack went to work. It hurt like hell, a lot more than usual. I was very sensitive today, and was squealing and squirming from the very beginning. More than one time I jumped off the arm of the couch all together. Jack would hug me and comfort me and then make me bend back over and take the rest. He used the paddle, the black leather strap, and the double rod cane. He went back and forth between all three implements, spanking me first over my thin, patriots pajama pants, then over my panties, then finally on my bare bottom. I held my tears back, clenching my teeth and holding my breath. When he moved to my thighs with the strap I screamed.
     "PLEASE NO!" my legs were kicking, my hips rotating, desperately trying to escape. "Pleaseee not my thighs, pleaseeee..." I begged.
      He gave me a few more with the strap on my thighs and right where my bottom meets my thigh. Then he dropped the strap and used his hand to spank my thighs a little more. After a dozen good swats, I threw my hands back. He stood up and walked away, and I thought he was getting the handcuffs. I kept my eyes shut, and waited for him to come back. When he did, he pushed my hands out of the way, and squeezed lotion onto my flaming skin. He gently massaged it in, then gave me a few more swats with his hand before he picked up the strap again.
     My bottom was blazing, and I could feel myself reaching the brink. The strap came down again and again and I wiggled for all my life.
     "You get ten more with this, on each cheek." he annouced. He brought the strap down 10 times hard, on each cheek.
      I screeched with each swat, begging him to be done. When he finished with the strap, I was panting, my bottom throbbing.
      "Fifteen with this," he told me, holding up the double rod.
      Shaking my head, I laid my head down on my arms. "No, no. Please,"
      The first fifteen stung like hell, building and building and erupting in fire on my backside.
      "OW OW OW OW OWWWW PLEASE NO PLEASE," I cried, begging. Tears had welled in my eyes and when he started his rapid-fire fifteen stroke assault on my other cheek, they poured over, rolling down my face.
       He picked up the paddle. "And fifteen of these," he brought it down hard and fast, keeping his pace despite my pathetic wails and sobs. The tears were really coming and I sobbed freely. I was so engrossed in the pain I didn't notice the spanking had stopped until I heard the drawer opening and Jack putting the implements away. I wanted to jump up and hug him but I waited for my command. He sat down on the bed. "Come here," he said. I got up and he pulled me into his arms, lying down with me. He held me close while I cried, stroking my hair and whispering gently to me.


So far, married life has been great!

He Never Ceases to Amaze Me

I woke up yesterday morning a little dizzy and dazed from the night before. The ladies from work had taken me out drinking in leiu of a bachelorette party, and being someone who doesnt drink all that often, I spent friday night puking and fighting with Jack. I woke up on the couch with a puke bag next to me and our bedroom door propped open. Jack came out a few minutes later, recalling the previous night's events to me, including how I cut myself with my necklace because it was so tangled and I yelled at him about taking it off and fought him the whole time he was trying to. He also reminded me that he had to make me go outside and pick up paper towels I'd drunkenly tried to throw in the neighbor's yard after cleaning my puke out of a friend's car.
    "I think there's a paper towel on the neighbor's car," he told me sternly.
    I felt like my face must have been on fire. "Are you serious?" I asked quietly.
    He nodded. "You know what today is," he reminded me.
    I thought for a moment. "Saturday? Oh. It's saturday." Reminder spankings. That dreadful anticipation swelled in my belly.
    "You're going to get a good one tonight," he told me calmly. By now my stomach was doing flip flops. "Do you know what I'm going to use?" he asked.
    I shook my head. "No. What?"
    He grinned. "I'm not going to tell you yet," he patted my butt.
    Dread gripped me. "Can I make a request?" I asked meekly.
    He nodded. "You may. It might not be granted, but you can try." he responded fairly.
    "Please don't use the five fingered strap tonight," I pleaded. My eyes grew wide and I blinked innocently, literally begging him with my baby blues.
    He started to laugh. "Why is that your nemesis all of a sudden?" The five fingered strap is his favorite.
    "I really hate it. It hurts so much," I complained. Just talking about it made my bottom tingle. I climbed on to the bed next to him and nuzzled my head against his chest. "Please, baby."
    He sighed. "I don't know, I'll think about it. But, there's a good chance I'm going to use it." he warned me.
    For the rest of the day, every now and then he would go, "Baby..." and when I'd turn to look at him, he'd whisper, "Wapishh,"
    My heart rate would jump, the anticipation of the upcoming spanking growing and growing. By the time of the actual spanking (not until about 9:30 pm!) I was so anxious I could barely contain it.
    We went to our room, and sat down on the bed, cuddling each other and talking about our day and how close the wedding was. When a comfortable silence had settled over the room, Jack's voice broke sternly through it.
    "I want you to get up and go to the drawer," he ordered, referring to the drawer we keep our spanking arsenal in.
    I sighed, standing up and going to the dresser, opening the drawer, then looking obediently to him for my next direction.
    "I want the green 2 rod cane, the hairbrush, aaaannd...." he paused, letting me stand in agony as I waited for his last choice, praying he wouldn't say the five fingered leather strap. "You may choose the last implement, but choose wisely because if I don't agree, I'll just pick one."
    I looked over the implements left in the drawer, not particularly wanting to meet up with any of them, but knowing I had to pick something that would be nasty enough that he wouldn't just come get the strap. I reached for the big paddle, ignoring the voice in my brain telling me that wasn't a good choice. I knew I was already in for a good spanking, so I figured I might as well just accept it.
    He nodded. "That's fine," he said. "Now come over here and bend over the arm of the loveseat."
    I did as I was told, wondering how long it would take him to notice I was wearing sweat pants.
    He whacked me a few times successively with the double rod cane and then growled, "What are these? Get up and put spanking pants on." he demanded.
    I got up quickly and averted the swat he tried to land on my passing backside. I changed into leggings, and laid back over the edge of the couch.
    This time he attacked with the hairbrush, smacking my sit spot over and over. I was wriggling before the tenth swat had landed. He switched to the double rod and stung my whole backside rapid fire with it.
    I could hardly control my body and kept sliding off the side and throwing my hand back. After a particularly painful stinger to my sit spot with the double rod, I jumped up and grabbed my butt. "Oh, owww." I looked at Jack with my puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd give me a moment to recoup.
    Instead, he said, "You need to get the handcuffs."
    I nodded my head and went to the drawer, pulling out the pink velcro handcuffs and bringing them to him to fasten on me. Once he had, he kissed my forehead and firmly guided me back over the side of the couch. When I had cuddled up to my stuffed animal and put my head down, I felt him tugging my leggings down, keeping my panties in place. Thankfully, I'd remembered to put full bottom panties on yesterday. I moaned fearfully anyway.
    The next round was excruciating, as he switched back and forth between the double rod and the hairbrush, burning my bottom beyond what I thought possible. Despite the incredible pain, I hadn't yet started to cry. Again, I was "dry sobbing", like the last spanking. After a particularly hard round of fast hairbrush spanks, I looked back pleadingly, sliding off the arm. "Can we take a break?" I could see on his face that he was not going to comply. "Please," I begged, feeling desperation beginning to wash over me.
    "I'll go slower," he compromised.
    This wasn't any less painful, though it was less overwhelmingly so. He pulled my panties down, and started paddling my bottom. This paddle covered a whole butt cheek at a time, and the burn was intense, making my skin radiate heat.
    I cried out, unable to keep quiet. The only words coming out of my mouth were "Ow," and "OhGODthathurts", making sure not to ask him to stop. He paddled my thighs, (which are suuuuper sensitive,) and then moved back to my burning backside.
    "I'm going to get the strap, okay?" he told me softly.
    I felt the tears well up in my eyes at that. My butt already hurt so much, it didn't feel like I could possibly take anymore, let alone from the strap. I looked at him and I was crushed between my desire to submit to him and my fear of that horrible strap. I nodded my head and whispered, "Okay," putting my head down to hide my tears. I could hear him fussing around in the implement drawer, and my heart pounded erratically.
    He came back and started smacking my bare bottom with the strap.
    My legs were kicking, I squirmed, squealed and cried out for all I was worth, and that damned strap just kept coming down on my scorched skin. I jumped up off the arm of the couch, turning to look at Jack with my tear-filled eyes. I thought he might let me off easy when he saw my tears but to his great credit, he didn't.
     "Get back over the arm of the couch, babe." he said firmly, putting his hand in the small of my back and pushing me back down.
     As the strap started coming down again I started to feel myself lose control, and a wave of panic swallowed me. I wiggled hard, giving one last attempt at an escape before lying still and accepting my spanking.
     "Baby," he said softly. "Ten more with the strap on each side and you'll be done with it."
     "Do I have to count them?" I whimpered, breathing hard.
     "I will," he offered kindly. He doled them out, crisp and firm, counting them one by one. First ten on the left cheek, second ten on the right. When he finished, he put the strap down on the bed and stood up, getting the lotion off the dresser. He squirted some on my flaming bottom, and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking maybe it was over (and yet insanely still hoping in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't.) He rubbed the lotion in gently, massaging as he did so. "Your ass is covered in welts," he said quietly, applying a little more lotion. He set the bottle of lotion back on the dresser and came back over to me, picking up the double rod and peppering my bottom with crisp swats.
      I clutched at my stuffed animal, feeling the emotion welling up inside of me, crashing against the walls of my body like the ocean. It swelled and churned, washing away the sadness and uncertainty inside of myself.
      Next came a barrage of swats from the awful big paddle again. The pain from the paddling and my emotional storm had finally built up enough and boiled over in the form of tears, rolling down my cheeks.  At last, he stopped, and massaged my welted, hot skin with his big hands.
     I moaned, grateful for his gentle touch yet quivering under the pain from the spanking. I caught my breath and got myself under control during this much needed break.
    "Ten more with each implement and then your spanking will be over. Five on each cheek. I'm going to start with the hairbrush. Okay?" he announced.
     I started to cry again, my bottom throbbing and throwing some serious heat. Nevertheless, this was exactly what I had asked Jack to do, and he was doing a marvelous job at carrying out my wishes. How could I do anything but submit? I nodded my head and whispered, "yes sir."
     He went pretty easy, (not to say they didn't hurt!!!!!) but I think the last ten with each implement was more of him showing me that he's in charge now, and it's not over until he decides it's over.
    The spanking hurt like hell and I sobbed in his arms for a good five to ten minutes after it was over, but I felt so wonderful and refreshed. I felt like we connected on a level deeper than anything we've experienced before last night. We made love afterward and it was absolutely amazing. Although all I could think about during the spanking was how much it hurt and how badly I wanted it to end, once the tears were flowing and it was over, I was at peace with myself and felt very safe and protected. I thanked him, and he told me I didn't need to thank him. He shared with me that it was very difficult for him to do this. I told him that I cant imagine how hard it must be but that I appreciate it very very much. I havent been able to stop staring at him and touching and cuddling him all day today. I'm still glowing from last night's experience, and can't think of any other way to describe it besides mind-blowing.

Back On Track

The past couple days have just been great. Yesterday morning I was given a good spanking, and Jack made sure to spank me until I was  crying. He maintained control throughout the whole spanking and he did a wonderful job. Things feel back on track, just the way they should be. Jack has been doing much better at assuming more control in our relationship, and it in turn makes me feel safer and more balanced. I am very happy with the way life is treating me right now, even though the wedding is next thursday and I still need shoes! :-o

Lost

So, I got spanked last night. Yet somehow I was left feeling more empty than I did before the spanking. He built the spanking up, and I felt, didn't deliver. Teasingly this morning, I said, "I thought I was getting a long spanking last night?" Instead of threatening another spanking like I expected, he said, "Well I was tired babe, what do you expect?" I felt crushed, like spanking me is just a chore he has to get done before he can go to sleep. Just typing that sentence makes my chest tight and the tears well in my eyes. I don't want to force him to do something that doesn't feel natural to him. It makes me feel guilty and just so heartbroken that he's not as "into it" as he lets on. I want this to be something that we both benefit from and I feel like he's burdened by it, which in turn makes it very difficult for me to benefit from it either. Just when I thought things were getting on the right track, I fall off the edge of the cliff again. Flailing blindly for a ledge to grab on to, I am left struggling to pull myself back on a level of clarity. I wish I could find a way to communicate this to Jack without making him feel criticized or unaccomplished. I need to be spanked until I cry. I need it for my emotional and mental sanity. I feel like a hypocrite for asking him to be in control and then telling him how to do everything. I honestly don't know what else to do.