Trouble squared

Yesterday morning, about 8:00, our power cut off. I didn’t think too much of it at first because they’ve been blasting nearby and it’s been briefly cutting off and then back on again. After about 10 minutes had passed, I got more concerned. I called the electric company to report our outage and was notified via automated voice that the reason our lights were out was because the light bill wasn’t paid! I promptly pushed zero a bunch of times so I could reach an actual human because I knew I had mailed in a check toward the end of July and I was ready to let the incompetent fools have it. They don’t play around here. If your bill isn’t paid by the next months meter reading, they’ll cut ya off, so I’ve always made sure I got a check in on time. As I was waiting for the human I planned to give a piece of my mind, I opened my bill planner notebook to look up exactly when I’d mailed in the check. As I flipped through the pages, an envelope stamped and addressed to the power company fell out… I would have sworn I’d mailed that! I could’ve passed a lie detector I was so sure of it. Clearly, I had not, in fact, put a check in the mail. Mercifully, the elevator music playing through my phone was still going and nobody had answered my call yet. After a couple of minutes, a nice lady answered and I explained my situation. I was thoroughly embarrassed. We’ve never had a utility cut off for non payment before. I have always done a good job staying on top of our bills and payments. Adam also knows when everything is due and often double checks that everything’s taken care of each week. Our system always worked well, until yesterday. I paid the bill over the phone which cost an extra $2.50 for the convenience of using their automated phone pay system plus an extra $37 “reconnect fee”. This was an expensive mistake! I was dreading the evening when Adam would come home and I’d have to tell him. I briefly considered keeping my screw up a secret, but I’m a shitty liar and the guilt always gets to me anyway. It wasn’t punishment I was afraid of. I was ashamed and worried that Adam wouldn’t trust me to take care of our finances anymore. I knew that I had let him down, even if it wasn’t a purposeful mistake. Had I been paying attention, I get bank notifications for every debit and credit on our account and that check should’ve gone through within a couple days of mailing the check.

I have to take my daughter to her bus stop, and this blog is long enough already, so I’m going to end on a cliffhanger and I’ll post a part 2 later today. I called this blog “trouble squared” because had I not chosen to open my great big sassy mouth while Adam was lecturing me, I’d have gotten off relatively easy. Instead, I thought it was a good time to be a smart ass.

It wasn’t me

This afternoon, some of our neighbors right behind us were having a birthday party for their daughter. There was a bouncy house and pool party and at least 30 kids were there. The adults were outnumbered by quite a bit. I think there were about 10 of us. We live in the south. We’re all at least a little bit “redneck” in my neighborhood, so of course there were adult drinks being served. Maybe y’all have adult beverages at kids birthday parties in other parts of the country/world too, I’m not really sure? I wouldn’t even think of going overboard and getting sloshed at a kid’s birthday party, though. The mom of the kid having the birthday party (I’ll call her L) had a lot too much today. It was pretty embarrassing to be honest. I like L. She’s a fun girl and I know she loves her kids, but she didn’t use her mom brain today at all. She had disappeared inside and I heard some yelling. Next thing I knew, someone else was calling for L’s husband, J, to get inside right away. I kept my butt firmly planted where I was because I was absolutely not getting involved in whatever drama was taking place inside!! I heard some more yelling from L and then it got quiet. A few minutes later, J re-emerged outside. Of course, everyone wanted to know what happened and J casually tells us “I busted her butt. I told her if she didn’t settle down I was gonna bust her butt, and she wouldn’t listen.” Bust your butt here means give someone a spanking. It’s said to kids often. Apparently, L was getting into a heated argument with another person who was inside with her and she was slamming cupboards and throwing things on the floor like a lunatic. Literally no one at the party batted an eye when J told us what he’d done. I was considering sneaking inside to check on L and honestly, I wanted to be nosy and find out what had her so upset in the first place, but Adam grabbed my hand, pulled me back to him, and whispered in my ear, “if you take one step inside there I’ll come bust your ass too.”

So, this was my afternoon! I can’t even imagine how angry Adam would’ve been if I acted like L did today. She is about ten years younger than I am, so I suppose she’s still learning to adult. Her husband is 14 years older than her, so he’s also more settled down and mature. I have heard J make little comments to L about putting her over his knee. Heck, he even said it to me once not long ago (jokingly). I had no idea until today that he was ever serious about his threats to her though. How crazy is it that I actually know people in my real life who are like Adam and I?! Also, how crazy is it that not one single adult there thought anything of it when J announced her just gone inside and spanked his wife? I feel like y’all are going to think I’m telling stories here. Cross my heart, it’s 100% truth! I didn’t get a chance to talk to L alone after all that. I’m still dying to know what the world made her so angry in the first place. If I find out anything else worth reporting here, I’ll update tomorrow. As for me, I am able to sit comfortably tonight because I wasn’t about to get my butt whooped at a neighbor’s party.

TTWD

TTWD, This Thing We Do, is sort of an all inclusive term for couples who incorporate any kind of “kink” into their lives. At least, that’s what I’ve understood it to mean anyway. I’ve been thinking, aren’t we all a little bit kinky? Who doesn’t have a fantasy or fetish? There are so many different things people can be into. From the common ones like playing “naughty nurse” or dressing in a sexy French maid’s uniform, to foot fetishes and beyond. I’m certainly not one to judge others for their own kinks, whatever they may be. It is rather annoying how judgmental some folks are about what other consenting couples are doing. I’ve received zero criticism for anything I’ve blogged here, and I’m grateful for that. However, I have seen plenty of online conversations where others have chimed in with their holier than thou attitudes concerning other couples and their turn ons. I feel genuinely sorry for those people because their sex lives must be absolutely bland or non existent. Now I’m not suggesting that we can’t share our own preferences or talk about why something others are into just isn’t your flavor. I’m talking about the buzz kills who do their best to shame and belittle people for opening up about what they’re into. Clearly, I like to discuss my own take on incorporating DD and a little BSDM into Adam and my relationship. I expect there to be very few (if any) folks who always agree with how I like to do things. That’s okay! I subscribe to and read a lot of other couple’s stories about their lives. Just because I’m not into all of the same things they are, that doesn’t mean I don’t find enough in common to find their writing interesting. Do I find some things to be a little weird? Sure. Feet gross me the hell out! You’ll never hear about me sucking someone’s nasty toes. To each their own though. We’re all a little weird, aren’t we?

To all my fellow kinksters in blog land, don’t worry about what other people think. Share your thoughts and don’t be afraid to talk about your secret fantasies. I have a theory that the people claiming to be the most horrified by our openness about what heats us up, are actually just really frustrated with their own inability to admit they’re kinky too. I mean, why else would they be reading your blog?

Safe words

Adam and I have never actually had “safe words”. When it comes to sex, “no, stop, please” are all words that will put an immediate halt to things. I rarely say any of them, but it has happened, and Adam has always respected my requests. When it comes to spanking, there are also no safe words, however I realized just yesterday that there is one tiny phrase that Adam will pause for. “I’m scared.” I have only ever said it a few times before, but when he pulled a hairbrush out of the drawer, I was afraid. It’s been months since I’ve felt the sting of a hairbrush. He’d gotten me into position and had his arm raised when I said it, I’m scared. He brought his spanking hand down and used his other one to hold my hand he’d already pinned behind my back. I didn’t get out of the spanking, but that small gesture made me feel safe and comforted. Obviously, there’s an element of fear when you know your butt’s about to get whooped, but Adam would never want to do anything emotionally damaging to me. It’s important to him that I feel secure in those vulnerable moments. I honestly have never consciously thought to vocalize those words as an attempt to stop, or even pause, a spanking. It’s always genuine when I’ve said it. I guess I just hadn’t ever really thought about their impact. I love that Adam knew exactly what I needed. I love that he listens to what I’m expressing in words and in my actions. I’ve never felt the need for a safe word with Adam. We are so deeply connected to one another, he can always read my body language. He gets me.

Good girl

Very few things get me hotter than hearing my husband whisper “good girl” in my ear as I’m taking whatever it is he’s giving me in that moment. Those two little words can make me cooperate with just about anything Adam wants me to do. Wanna spank me? Tell me I’m a good girl. Want a blow job? Tell me what a good girl I am. I don’t exactly know why that gets me so turned on, but ohhhh myyy gawd, it does.

Am I alone, or are there other ladies who love (or would love) to be told what a good girl they are?