A Brand New Day

Adam told me that he’d been very angry, on Tuesday evening, but he wanted to give me some time. He wanted to know if I would be sorry. He wanted to see if I would be sorry for what I’d done to him, or sorry for myself. Would I recognize how disrespectful I’d been, and would I apologize? I did all of those things, yesterday. It surprised me to know that was how he felt. I guess, I thought he would’ve done something right away, if he’d been upset. He said that he didn’t think I would react well to having him call me out, while I was so angry and frustrated myself. He also told me, now that he knows I recognize how disrespectful I can be, he will not hesitate to address it, immediately. He pointed out a couple of times I’ve spoken disrespectfully to, or about, him, recently. I hadn’t even caught that! It wasn’t blatant, nasty, hateful things I’d said. I had called him a “pushover”, at my Dad’s house, the last time we were over there for a guitar night. I’d made comments that belittled him, and I wasn’t thinking about how wrong that was. Adam said, he lets too many things like that go, without confronting me about them. He isn’t going to do that, anymore.

Jackie brought a 12 pack of beer in, when she got home from work. I’d been texting her about what was going on, with Adam and me. We each sat in the kitchen and drank one. I had made a casserole that was ready to go into the oven, as soon as Adam got home. It only needed 20-30 minutes to bake. I was watching our front door camera, waiting to see Adam’s truck go past. I’d just finished my beer, when it happened. He was pulling in the driveway, as I threw my empty beer can away. I quickly grabbed one more from the fridge. I chugged that thing so fast, it was gone before he walked into the kitchen! I was so nervous.

Adam had gone into our bedroom, before he came into the kitchen, to say hello. I suspected what he was doing…Taking a belt from our closet and setting it out. He looked so sexy, when he strode in to greet Jackie and I. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing his big, strong as hell forearms. Jackie started to talk to him about all kinds of random crap. I knew she was stalling for me. Adam didn’t seem to be in a bad mood. He was smiling and chatting, like normal. Finally, he turned to me and asked me how long til supper? I explained, I just needed to throw the casserole in the oven. He said “Perfect. Let’s go step into my office.” I really did intend to go with him, willingly. I knew I deserved whatever was coming to me. For some reason, I couldn’t make my feet move, though. He didn’t wait for me to move them. He picked me up and carried me into our bedroom. The dogs had followed, and as he was shooing them out the door, I started to walk towards the door, too. I was only playing. I always try to bring, even the tiniest bit of humor, into tough moments. Adam grinned, grabbed onto my arm, and said, “Nuh-uh, Eve”.

As I’d suspected, he had a belt laid out on our bed. He bent me over our bed. I immediately flipped over, onto my back. I looked up at him. I had tears welling up, in my eyes. I told him, “Adam, I’m scared.” I do not use that phrase, often. I don’t abuse it. I never say it to take advantage of my husband’s love for me. He knows that. He pulled me up, hugging me close. I pressed my face into his chest and started bawling. He smelled so good. This was what I’d wished for, all day. Adam’s “gentle” hands. He put his hand under my chin, and lifted my face so I was looking him in his eyes. His expression was kind. He said, “Baby, you know this has to happen. I need you to understand, this is serious. I love you so much, even when I’m very angry with you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. Let’s get this over with.” He laid me back down, on our bed. He left my jeans on, and put his left hand on my back, to keep me still. He spanked me with the belt, I don’t know, at least 6 times. Then, he sat down next to me. He talked about all of the things I wrote about, at the beginning of this post. I said a lot of yes, sir and no, sir’s. I was not expecting what happened next! He pulled me over his lap, pulled my jeans and panties down, and spanked me with his hand, hard. It hurt so much worse than the belt had. After, I’d guess, a dozen of those, he was finished. I was a mess of tears, and my nose was running. My hair had been in a ponytail. It was now loosely hanging on one side of my head, with hair stuck to my face. Adam wiped my hair from my face. He stood there, just staring into my eyes. I was sobbing, and breathing like I’d just sprinted a couple miles. I looked back into his eyes. My breaths slowed. We stayed like that for, what felt like, a long time. Finally, he spoke. “Just know, this is what happens, the next time you disrespect me like that.” I replied, “Yes, sir.”

When we emerged from “the office” (our bedroom, but Adam calls it that, when I’m in trouble), Jackie had turned up the music I’d had playing, in the kitchen. She’d also preheated the oven, and then put my casserole in. It was almost finished. This tells me, we were in there for 45 minutes, or so. It’s hard to have a concept of time, when we’re in there because I’m being spanked. Jackie didn’t ask me any questions. We went on with our evening. I’m sure we’ll talk, later today. She could tell that I wasn’t ready for a conversation about how it went. I’m sure it was obvious in the way I must’ve looked, too.

This morning, I drove our son to a local event center, for a “construction contest” he’s doing. I’ll have to go back to pick him up, this afternoon. He was real excited. It was COLD, outside. My heated seats don’t feel very good on a freshly spanked bottom, though. Adam and I are good. There’s no anger or animosity. It’s a new day. This is my favorite thing about the way our marriage works. I screw up. I get lectured and punished. It’s over.

I teased Adam, last night, about how his “fan club” had been on “his side”, on my blog.

Tick Tock…

These texts, between Adam and I, pretty much sum up my day here…

I started to text Jackie because I was going crazy and needed to talk to someone else!

I think I’m fixing to find out just how hard Adam’s hands can get. Despite the way it may seem, when I write about the stupid shit I do and say sometimes, I don’t look forward to it. I don’t enjoy it, when he’s punishing me. I especially, don’t enjoy it, when he’s really disappointed in me. I don’t think I’ve made him this upset in years. I suppose, I probably have, but he hasn’t spanked me for it, in years. I guess I’ll write in here tomorrow, when tonight is finally over with. I swear, the clock is moving so slowly, because I just want it all to be done. At the same time, I’m not excited for Adam to get home from work. I am sooo, truly sorry. I wish I could rewind and redo last night. I wish I could take it all back.


I Need More Time

I was standing here, in front of my kitchen sink, listening to the sound of my kids playing and laughing outside. My daughter’s best friend is here, for the weekend. The three of them are having so much fun. I see them jump on the trampoline. I see them running around on the swing set, playing hide and seek. Oliver (our dog) chases them. It’s the most precious sights and sounds. I thought, I need more time. It isn’t long enough that I have left, hearing their laughter, while I’m watching my kids play out in our backyard. They keep on growing up. One day, not long enough from now, I won’t be able to look out my window, and see my babies playing happily. They’ll be off, doing grown up things, with their own lives to live. They won’t be here, everyday. This is very hard for me to think about. I know the goal is to raise independent, intelligent, productive people. Grow them into people who can go out into the world and make something for themselves. I only wish I could slow it down, just a little. I’m trying to “soak in” these last years, with them here. I’m trying to live “in the moment”, with them, while they’re here. How many more Christmas seasons will my children be here to help me decorate? I do a thing, every year, we call “25 days of Christmas”. It starts on Nov 30. Every single day is an activity. I plan a calendar. Some days we are making a paper chain to count down the days til Christmas. Some days, we’re drinking hot cocoa and watching a Christmas themed movie. Some days, we make cards to send to soldiers who are deployed, and won’t be home for Christmas. We make “wish lists”. We donate to those less fortunate. We make gift bags to hand out to the homeless, full of all kinds of essentials and yummy snacks. We make cookies and candy. How much longer? I look forward to making our “25 days of Christmas” calendar, every year!

Everyone has their gifts. Everyone has something they are just real good at. My thing? Being a mama. That’s all I ever wanted. Since I was a small child, I dreamt of becoming a mom. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my share of mistakes. Being their mama is my pride and joy, though. Being a good mama is everything to me. Of course, I aim to be the best wife, sister, daughter, and friend that I can be. I’m doing the thing I was meant to, right now. But, I need more time! There’s still so much I want to do with my babies. I’m not ready for them to grow.

I wrote the first half of this, yesterday evening. It is now Saturday morning. Adam did go into work, early. I felt him climb out of bed at around 5:00am. I stayed in bed. I was watching a movie, Christmas themed (of course), with the dogs curled up in bed with me. I heard our system announce “person detected at front door”. I grabbed my phone and checked. It was my son, running out to meet an adult friend of ours who hires him to help with his Lawncare business, sometimes. They had made tentative plans to do some work, but I never dreamed they’d actually be working in this cold weather. I got up and went to go check outside. I wanted to see if there was any snow. We did not get snow here. We did get some ICE, though. The rain has frozen into a nice sheet of ice over everything. I panicked and sent Adam a text. I told him I don’t like our son being out in it! Adam insisted the roads are fine. I sent this picture I took of the deck, covered in ice.

Hard to see, but that IS ice frozen on the table, chairs, and deck there.

I text our son. I didn’t think it looked like he had a heavy coat on, when he left. He insisted that he did have it, and he would stay safe. I had to laugh, because our son is just like Adam, when he texts me. It’s both adorable and frustrating!

The arrow there points to the screenshot of my texts with our son. I sent it to Adam.

One more thing I wanted to add to my post, for today. The truth is, I’m still embarrassed. I realized, last night, that I had done something Adam absolutely hates, a few days ago. He’s had a long week. I never wanted to add to it. So, I had sort of, totally “sidestepped” the truth about something really stupid. I knew I was going to have to tell him. I wasn’t sure I’d find the courage to do it last night, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it in for long.

When we got in the shower, I asked him, “So, what if I told you something that made you real mad, this week. This week, that I’ve tried SO hard to be supportive and a great wife. This week, that you’ve not quite been yourself.” He asked me what I was trying to tell him? I immediately started to sob. I mean, I was shook up. I explained that I have felt so proud and so good. I told him, I know it was stupid. I wanted to tell him the truth in a way that caused the least upset or aggravation, because he was not very happy, all week. He softened, a lot. He reminded me that he has not come home angry or been mean. I said I knew that, but I can feel his tension in every text message. I can feel it, the moment he walks in the door. All I want to do is make it better. If I can’t do that, at least, not make it worse! The last time that I did this, was the worst spanking I’d received. I was afraid of that, but I was devastated to lose the progress I’d made. I was bawling because I felt like a failure, and it hurt me, probably as much as Adam! I know that my, very obvious, recognition of how serious this was to him, softened Adam’s own frustration with the situation. He didn’t insult me or raise his voice. He didn’t even look angry. His eyes were kind. He cupped my face in his hands, wiped my tears, and put his face close to mine. He told me he is still very proud of how hard I’ve worked to do the things he’s asked. He promised me that, this setback doesn’t erase all of the good I’ve done. He said, “I love you so much, baby. I’m never going to expect you to be perfect.” Then, he told me he forgot to wear his seatbelt, the other day, but he hadn’t told me about it. Finally, he kissed me, and said that I was still getting a spanking. I must’ve looked pitiful, because he gave me a grin and told me it would be cruel if he didn’t punish me. He wasn’t mad at me, but he couldn’t let it go without a spanking, because that would be inconsistent. I tend to have many more failures when he isn’t consistent. He knows this. I understood. I wasn’t excited, but I completely understand what he was saying. I expected it to be much worse, if I’m honest. I was afraid he would be angrier than I’ve ever seen. I was so ashamed to add more shit to his, already shitty, week. I hadn’t even felt any guilt, before last night, because I truly feel like I’m protecting him, when I skate around the truth about something that doesn’t hurt anyone. I feel like I’m helping, in the moment. It’s hard to explain, but Adam understands me well. He knows what I mean.

When we got out of the shower, he ushered me toward our bed. I had my towel wrapped around me. I asked, “Can’t I, at least, put my shirt on?!” I almost always wear one of Adam’s t-shirts to bed. He shook his head, picked me up in his arms, and carried me to our bed. I didn’t want to fight him. I knew I had done wrong. It’s not easy to hold still, when you’re so fearful, though. I’d reached my hand around to cover my bottom. Adam reminded me, “Don’t try to block. It’ll just earn you more of these.” I moved my hand. He was smiling. He does that when he’s sympathetic of my situation. He’s very patient, but won’t let me escape punishment. He lifted my towel, and swatted my butt several times, with his hand. It was not pleasant, but not nearly as painful or serious as the last time. Then, he sat down beside me. He told me he could see how truly sorry I was. He said that, he could see how hard I’m trying, and he felt guilty that I didn’t feel comfortable coming to him about something so stupid, this week. He told me he was going to work on that. He never wants me to hold back from telling him the complete truth, because I’m afraid he will be mean or cruel. He assured me, he will never be any harder on me, if I screw up when he’s had a bad day.

I wanted my husband, when we went to bed. I started to run my hands through his chest hair and slowly down, further south on his body. He asked me, “Are you sure you’re ready?” My lady parts were feeling pretty good. I wanted to try. We both got laid last night, and we both enjoyed it!


Shower Spankings

Yesterday morning, Adam’s day got started off on a bad note, and didn’t really get much better throughout the day. I was in a great mood, but I can tell when he’s grumpy at work, because he’s short with responses and much more quiet than usual. Jackie pays rent in the first of every month. She asked me if she could pay us her rent in two weeks, when she gets her next paycheck, because she had some unexpected things come up. I know better than to give her an answer to that question without talking to Adam first. I texted him about it. He called me. I got the “don’t make a habit of it or ask me again, but okay just this once” lecture, as if I was the one asking for a favor. I didn’t get an attitude with him or anything, though. He was late getting home, so it was after 8:00pm when he finally walked in the door here. I kept his supper warm. Adam has never, not once, walked into our home, after work, and brought his worries, frustrations, or troubles in with him. He is amazing about that.

Our son had been getting recruited by the wrestling coach. The coach asked him to come to a practice and then, last night, coach texted our son and asked him to join their team. The coach had already spoken to our son’s baseball coach and they’d worked out a schedule for him to do both. He was so proud and excited to tell his Dad! My son and I teased Adam about our plans to turn the house into a “Christmas wonderland” and we all laughed. Adam pretends to be a “Scrooge”, but it’s all an act. He loves that we all love Christmas time and he gets a kick out of pretending to be a buzzkill about it.

When it was time to get in our shower, Adam smacked my butt, as I was climbing in. I splashed some water on his face. He spanked me, again. I splashed, again. He spanked, again. I smacked his arm. He spanked me, again. I splashed him. He spanked me. This went on, no less than 20 rounds, before I couldn’t take it anymore. My behind was throbbing. Stubborn me hated to give in, but damn! Then, Adam asked me about something I had really hoped we wouldn’t have to discuss, right then. Earlier in the day, I had found out that some work we were having done here had run about 25% over budget. I had not mentioned it to Adam, because it didn’t seem like a good time to do that. He knew I’d spoken to someone about it, because we’d just had a conversation, the day before, when I’d mentioned calling to find out, since I hadn’t seen a bill, email, text, nothing yet. He asked me, “how much was it”? I blurted out the original estimate. He said, “$x? Thats it?” I said “wellllllll”. He tilted his head and gave me a look. I told him, “alright, so it was more like $y.” He pressed me on that, too. “Ok, so it’s really $y? There’s nothing else?” I looked down. I said, “ugh, alright. The final, real, total is $z”.

We both recognized that I had just attempted to “side step” something there. However, I pointed out, I did not follow through. I couldn’t just lie to him when he pressed me on it. I really didn’t want to discuss it last night, because I knew Adam already had a shitty day, and it was the last thing I wanted to dump on him. Adam turned off the shower, got out, handed me a towel, and put one around his own waist. I got out and wrapped my towel around myself. He took my face in his hands and held it so I was looking him in his eyes. He told me “I am so proud of how hard you’re working here, [Eve]. I know you’re trying and I understand that you didn’t want to tell me about this, tonight, but I still deserve to know what’s going on. This is why I have to punish you. I love you. I will always love you.” He kissed my lips, and then he went to the closet. He re-emerged, carrying a belt. I sat down, on the side of our bathtub. He let out a little laugh and told me, “Honey, you know that doesn’t work. C’mon. Let’s get this over with.” I shook my head slowly, while I stared into his eyes, silently pleading with him. He walked to me and gripped his hand around my arm so that he could stand me up, facing him. I, instinctively, wrapped my arms around his neck. I whimpered and buried my face into his chest when he lifted my towel that had been covering my bottom. He landed that belt straight across the center of my butt. It hurt. I jumped on him, climbing higher up his body, with my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms tightly held around his neck. He spanked me, once more. This time, he was much gentler. I slid down him, like he was a fireman pole, and sat down on the floor, holding onto his leg. He leaned down. I used my hands to “block” my behind. He assured me he wasn’t going to spank me again, and he helped me stand up. He told me again, how much he recognizes that I’m doing right. He wants me to know that he appreciates my efforts, but he still has to call me out, when I screw up. He mentioned that I was lucky he didn’t punish me for “side stepping”, which he felt he could’ve been justified in doing. He wanted me to know that he was proud of me for being honest, even if he did have to pry it out of me, at first.

When we were in bed, later, the subject of Christmas decor came up. He told me no buying anymore garland or anything like that without asking him, first. I said I’m not planning on it. Then, I giggled a little bit, because that was a prime example of how easy it is for me to “side step”. I wasn’t planning on it, but if I needed more, well…. I told him all of this, though. I promised I won’t do it. See, I am catching myself and my side stepping ways.

This morning, I don’t have one single mark leftover from the belt. I am covered in little black and blue “spots” all over my behind, from my stubborn refusal to give in and quit splashing or smacking Adam back, in the shower. I am legit sore as hell, too. I feel the ache.


Tis’ the Season

I had a lot of fun with my kids, yesterday! My first favorite song, when I was a little girl, was “Ghostbusters”. I played it while the kids were getting ready and danced around the kitchen singing it with them. Mj dressed as “Max” from the TV show “Stranger Things”. Our son dressed up as a baseball player. He’s obsessed with baseball, these days.

I swear, it was like a Hallmark channel movie, on our street, last night. This was our first Halloween in our new home. I loved it. Speaking of Hallmark movies…it is now, officially, November. My son asked me this morning, “Mama, do you know what time it is??” I replied, “6:19am?” He goes, “CHRISTMAS TIME!!!” Haha, my kid knows his mama. I absolutely love Christmas. I’m excited to decorate here in our new house this year, too. When I took the kids shopping for their last minute costume supplies, the stores had all the Christmas holiday stuff out. I started singing it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Somehow, my kids aren’t all that embarrassed by me, yet! My son had also found a scarecrow for me, while we were shopping. Our dog had chewed my old one up, last year. He asked me which one I liked and then he threw it in the buggy and assured me, if Dad says anything, He put it in there and I didn’t know a thing about it. I have great kids 😆

Adam was a little less “cold” toward Jackie, last night. He responded to her when she spoke to him. He didn’t look quite as angry or “hard”. Hopefully, time will heal this, too. Other than all that, things have been going great here. I believe in the magic of the Christmas season. I love the way everyone takes the time to be a little more courteous, more giving of themselves, kinder, generous, forgiving. I have faith. It’ll all work out.



I’ve never gotten out of a spanking, after Adam made the decision to punish me. I can, sometimes, explain myself in a way that helps to “soften” his heart. He has sympathy for me, even when he’s upset with me. Adam has told me, many times, that when he knows he is right, there’s nothing I can say or do to get out of trouble. There are circumstances where I will fully admit my fault. There are also times when I, sincerely, disagree with his assessment of my mistake. I can get angry and frustrated, when this happens. I’m just not one of those people who fully cooperates with discipline. I will, most always, go into our bedroom when Adam tells me to, even when I know he’s going to spank me. If I disagree with being punished, he might have to carry me, because I have been known to refuse. I have never, not even once, been able to force myself to obey an order to bend over, or turn over, and present my behind for Adam to spank. It isn’t simply because I’m stubborn. It isn’t because I think it’s funny to disobey him. I just cannot make my body do that. I freeze. Adam knows me very well. He’s an expert at reading my body language. He isn’t afraid to pick me up, put me over his knee, bare my bottom, and use his strength to hold me still, and spank me until he’s satisfied I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve never had a panic attack when he’s done it. That’s not to say it won’t ever happen, and if it does, I know full well what he would do. He would pause. He would do whatever was necessary to help me calm down. He would comfort me and reassure me. And then, he would spank me. I wouldn’t “get out of it”. I’ve also never really “lost my shit” when I was about to be disciplined. I’ve never screamed, cried, kicked, or any of those kinds of things. I can’t imagine ever doing that, but if I was that afraid, Adam would never force a spanking. He knows me. He knows when to be hard Adam and when to be soft Adam. He’s often both, at the same time, when he’s punishing me. That’s because he loves me. It’s because his goal is never to harm me or to traumatize me. The goal is to keep me safe, secure, and to assure me that he won’t ever let me fall. I wouldn’t have the love and the respect that I have for my husband, if he was ever cruel and uncaring. I wouldn’t learn anything, other than fear, if I didn’t know that he is always fair. He will spend hours explaining why I’m in trouble, a few minutes reddening my bottom, and then, as long as I need, talking and listening to me. He will sit with me until he is absolutely certain that I understand his reasoning, and I am confident that he considered mine.

I’m grateful that I can’t “get out of a spanking”. My writing may sometimes seem as if Adam is doing these things against my will. Never. Yes, I argue with him. Yes, I sometimes sit on the floor, attempting to protect my behind from him. Once in awhile, I don’t agree about deserving it. I have never been brought to our bedroom for a spanking, and then after, walked out of our bedroom feeling that way. I am absolutely certain that Adam’s heart would break if he ever did anything against my will. He knows that he has my consent, even when I’m in trouble. We’ve spent countless hours discussing these things. I’m positive that Adam would never spank my behind again, if he no longer had my consent. I don’t ever want that to happen! I can’t imagine going forward without this in our marriage. I trust Adam. I love him. I respect him. I need him. I also recognize my desire for his “hard hands”, when I’ve earned them.



Yesterday, I texted Adam, like I do every Friday, about bills I paid, money I put into various accounts, and all that super fun crap. I’m a saver. We have savings accounts for emergencies, for Christmas and birthdays, one for vacation, for medical bills, we have a couple retirement accounts, we have money invested in a (very uncertain) stock market. Having money set aside helps me to feel safe. My struggle, is there is never “enough” for me to stop worrying! Adam appreciates having money saved, but he prefers me to go over money management with him, before I make decisions. We had a good week, so I’d moved a decent amount into an account that can’t be spent easily. It takes days for money to transfer out of it and into our main account. This prevents any unnecessary, spur of the moment, expensive purchases. Well, Adam has been talking about buying a gas pickup truck to drive to work, instead of his duramax, because diesel fuel is outrageous. He loves his big ol’ diesel pickup, but it’s silly to be using it to get to and from work and spending $900 a month just for fuel to do that. So, we’ve talked about getting another truck he can use. He wanted to go look at one, yesterday. He wanted to be able to buy it, yesterday, if he liked it… I had just transferred that money from our main account. I told him this. He wasn’t happy. I didn’t know he wanted to look at a truck until after I’d told him I moved money, though! I, innocently, mentioned I’d done it, and this was when he informed me. How could I have known? I did try to argue that point, although I was not successful. I showed him my “book”. I keep track of expenses and all our accounts in it. I’m, generally, good at this. Still, I was in trouble.

I worked on him all day long. He was his regular, silly, supportive self. We’d talked on the phone, once. He was in a fine mood. He told me he was proud of me for a lot of other things I’d gotten done that he’d asked me to. I made myself a doctor appointment. Something he’s asked me to do all week. I got all our bills paid. I spoke to someone about a charge that I hadn’t made from my Amazon account. It got resolved. I shampooed the carpets. I got a lot done! Still, every time I asked if I was still in trouble, he would reply yes. I knew he wasn’t angry like when I “side step” the truth to him. I’d hoped maybe he was just going to call me into our room and lecture me and let that be it. I was nervous, anyway. I watched the front door camera, when I knew he’d be arriving home.

We were having, what I call, a “fend” night. Everybody chooses from leftover suppers I’ve saved. I was in the kitchen, setting out everything. Ham and cheesy potatoes, tuna casserole, chicken Alfredo, ribs, and lasagne were all options. The kids were outside, and Jackie was still working, so it was just me. Adam walked into the kitchen. He smiled. I returned a, cautious, half smile. He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and carried me into our bedroom. He laid me on our bed and held one hand on my back, while he used the other to pull my pants down. He gave me a few swats with his hand. It stung, but nothing hard enough to leave any lasting marks. I slid down onto the floor. Adam sat down in front of me. He talked to me about why he wants me to discuss things like that with him, before I make decisions with money. He assured me that, he never expects me to justify every dollar I spend. He feels that he deserves to know about things like I’d done, though. I do understand that. He would never spend or move large amounts of money without talking to me first. Yes, I take care of our finances, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be informed about what I intend to do, the same as he does for me.

Later, in the shower, he told me that he hoped I understood that, even though he hadn’t spanked me too hard, or gotten angry, he meant it. I promised that, I absolutely understood. I am well aware that “warnings” like this are not repeated. If I do it again, my behind is going to regret it. I’ve experienced this plenty of times. The rest of our evening was wonderful.

Today, I’m taking the kids to grab a few things they need for Halloween trick or treating. Mj needs some temporary, spray on, red hair dye. We need candy for trick or treaters. So, we’re going to do some shopping. There’s no real plans for the rest of our weekend. Looks like it’s just going to be some family time at home, for the most part. I’m alright with that. ❤️


Sweet & Sour, Emotional Rollercoaster

We had “breakfast” for supper, last night. I am a decent cook, if I do say so myself, but bacon is Adam’s thing. He started the bacon as soon as he got home, while I worked on everything else. After supper, I cleaned up the kitchen, like always. Then, I made myself some arctic white chocolate hot cocoa and stood in the kitchen while I sipped on it and enjoyed a moment to myself. Adam walked in and smacked my behind. I, playfully, “slapped” his cheek. I would never seriously slap my husband. Then, he spanked me about a half dozen times. When he does that, even playfully, in that rapid fire succession, I about go crazy! I don’t want to tell him, but that actually hurts so much more than a few hard ones with a break, in between!! He wasn’t angry. We were just playing around. He asked me if I learned a lesson? I told him, “don’t do this”, and I “slapped” him, again. Ooof. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He spanked me another half dozen or so times, as fast and hard as before. I screeched and climbed down so that I was straddling his waist with my legs and my arms around his neck. Adam called me his “little spider monkey” 😆 I didn’t retaliate, this time. My butt had had enough.

I had a nice afternoon hanging out with my little girl. We watched an old 1990’s Halloween movie with the Olsen twins in it. She was able to return to school today, feeling much better! Jackie had come up to bring Mj some cough drops, and I’ve seen her, in passing, a couple times. Besides that, we really haven’t spoken.

I’m really not just trying to be an asshole and hold a grudge, with Jackie. My struggle, is with the things she was willing to say and do while she was drunk and angry. I’ve overindulged, before. I’ve never done something like the things she did. It makes me feel like I can’t trust. This is something that I went through, with my mother, for years. It took enormous strength to finally cut my mother out of my life. I forgave my “mom” so many times, and I believed her every time she swore she was going to change. Allowing her in my life gave her a window into all of my shit. Good, bad, and ugly. My angry, drunk, and high mother would use those things to hurt me. She knew my struggles, my “skeletons in the closet”. Jackie knows literally ALL of me. I can’t believe she is capable of doing the same things she watched my mother do to break me. I love Jackie. I need her! I’m asking myself if I truly know her, anymore? Can I trust anyone?? What is wrong with me, that I find myself in this situation, again, with another person who is so willing to hurt me? I would absolutely never do that to anyone, let alone my loved ones! I can honestly say, I have never done things simply out of spite, just to hurt someone, in my adult life. As a young and dumb teenage girl, I did some cruel things. I won’t deny that. As an adult, I haven’t even been cruel to my worst enemies. I’m not “built” like that. I must be so naive to assume that the people I love would treat me the same. Jackie has been my very best friend for nearly 20 years. She’s done some shitty stuff. Nothing that’s cut me this deeply before, though. I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t even apologized. I refuse to “let it go” and just pretend like it didn’t happen. I won’t do it. None of this is easy or simple. My kids call her “aunt Jackie”. She’s with us for every birthday, every holiday, through the good and the bad. I’m not sure if I can go through what I did with my mother, again. I wonder if, maybe, I’m too reactive, because of my mother. Maybe I’m being too harsh. I just don’t know. I know that, at the very least, I need Jackie to acknowledge what she did, and be sorry.

Adam knows I’m hurting. He’s been incredibly supportive and sweet. I asked him, “what would you do if Miguel got in my face and talked to me like Jackie did to you?” (Miguel is one of Adam’s best friends). He told me, “Oh, I know what I’d do. And I would have no problem cutting him from my life after I kicked his ass, either.” Then, he paused, and he told me he understands that it’s more complicated than that, for me, with Jackie. We’ve been so close for so long. He said he would support me, whatever I decide to do here. I know he’s not kidding about what he’d do if one of his friends did anything to hurt him or his family. Adam doesn’t tolerate bullshit from anybody. He’s kind and gentle and forgiving, with his family. He’s not like that with people who threaten us. I’ve seen a whole new, expert level of angry come out of him, when it comes to protecting his family. If I let this go, with Jackie, am I not protecting my family? Jackie is family, to me. This is so hard. I’m the type of person who, when I commit to something, I mean it. When I make a decision, a life changing difficult one, I know, in my heart, that’s it. I won’t go back on it. I’m loyal. I’m trustworthy. So, what is the loyal thing to do? Stand by my best friend, and forgive, and trust that this won’t happen again? I gave my mother countless chances. Doesn’t Jackie deserve that? I don’t know? Am I stupid if I trust her again? Am I heartless if I never let her back “in”? So many confusing thoughts, all at once. I wish she would apologize. I wish she could see how much she’s hurt me, and care. I hope she does. I need her to.


Me & My Big Mouth

I opened my big mouth. I said something to Adam that was not, exactly, or even remotely, respectful. He told me, “This is your one warning. It’s the only pass I’ll give you.” I could see that he was struggling with whether it was the right decision to let me slide, even just this once. I was good with it, though. Later, after we’d gone to bed, this came up again. I repeated the thing I had said, earlier, and decided to elaborate. I added some extra “glitter” to something Adam already did not appreciate… He wasn’t amused. He told me he couldn’t let this go. I panicked and told him that felt a lot like “double jeopardy”! He couldn’t put me on trial for the same crime! He wouldn’t bend, this time. He started to climb out of bed. I grabbed onto him and held my arms around his neck, and my legs around his waist, like a damn baby monkey on its mama. I begged him “NO! I don’t want to sleep on my stomach! Pleeeease don’t!” He just said, “I have to.” He held up his hand and told me he could use his hand or his belt. I swear, his hands turn to stone, when he’s punishing me with them. I wouldn’t make that choice, this time. His hand hurts like hell, too! More than the belt ever really has. Even though I know, deep down, the belt could do way more damage, if he wanted it to. He walked toward our closet, where the belts were. I’m still straddling him, doing my best to stop him, but getting nowhere. I jumped down when he opened the closet door. I ran to our bed and jumped onto it. He came toward me, carrying that mother fucking belt in his hand. I continued to plead with him. He told me to turn over. I said no. He pulled me up, his hand under my arm, so that I was standing, facing him. He swung the belt once, twice, three times. I, somehow, wound up on the floor. He rolled me over, onto my belly, and gave me one more.

He took his belt back to the closet while I sat up, on the floor. I tucked my knees up under my chin and laid my head on my knees. He came back to me and told me that he’d caught the belt on his own leg that first one, and it would’ve done a lot more damage, had he not done that. The truth was, it hadn’t hurt that much. The belt scares me so badly, though. I was breathing heavy and fighting myself not to let any tears come. He knows how afraid of that belt I am. He also knows how easily I can bruise. He never wants to seriously harm me. It seems that he goes back and forth between, either feeling like he was too harsh, or too soft. I sat on the floor, with my head resting on my knees, until he reached down and picked me up. He put me up on our bed. Then, he climbed in and covered both of us up. He pulled me into his arms while I continued to breathe heavily and worked to calm myself down. We didn’t say anything more. I woke up twice, through the night. Both times, I laid there and let myself cry in the dark. I’m not sure if I can explain the things I felt. I just needed to let myself cry.

This morning, I texted Adam and I told him I was sorry. He wrote me back thank you. Awhile later, I sent another text message with a more elaborate description of why I understood I was wrong. He text me we’re good. I wrote, ok. He replied, seriously, baby. And, that was the end of that.

I hate his belts. Yea. It’s plural now. Two belts. Equally terrifying. Also, I need to learn how to quit while I’m ahead. I do “push it”, with Adam. We’ve discussed this. He understands that it isn’t always easy for me to realize I’m losing my power, with him. He isn’t afraid of me, at all. It’s such a mixture of emotions, for me. Frustration and comfort. Fear and security. He’s, most certainly, assuring me that he is here, there, and everywhere. I can try to push him away, but he will stand firm. I can attempt to pull away from him, but he will hold me close. These recent spankings are no joke. I have two marks on my upper thigh leftover from that belt. Adam isn’t fooling around. I think I’m starting to realize this. Holy hell. I do have a high pain threshold. This doesn’t make it easy for Adam. I have still never cried from the physical pain of a spanking. It’s what it does to me, emotionally, that gets me. Adam always tells me that he gets no pleasure from seeing a bruise on my behind leftover from a spanking he’s given me. Having said that, I’m pretty certain that if I lie to him, or even “sidestep” the truth again, there’s a good chance I end up with an even worse looking butt the next day! I feel like, the next time I’m in trouble, I’ll probably start bawling before the first smack on my behind. I’m no longer afraid about what he might do. I’m afraid of what he will do.


I’m Not a “Submissive”

I’m a little bit confusing, sometimes, even to myself. I’m just not one of those ladies who’s, very often, cool with saying “whatever you say, dear”. I’m very stubborn, hard headed, incredibly sassy. I’m actually pretty good at being funny. I make my family and friends laugh, a lot. They also know me as someone who ain’t afraid to tell ya what I think. I have no problem standing up for myself or the people that I love. I didn’t seek out a man like Adam. At least, not consciously? I never had to ask him to be who he is. He’s never asked me not to be who I am, either. He knows damn well how I roll! I think he’s attracted to it, most times. He’s never suggested that he wants to “change me”. He wants me to treat him the same way as I, honestly, want to treat him. It’s what I want when the rational, calm, reasonable, sane “me” is in charge of my thoughts and my actions.

In a way that’s difficult to explain in words, I think that I subconsciously want people to fear me. Like, I need them to know they can’t fuck with me. I will fight you, and I will win. That’s not to suggest that I haven’t lost any “fights”. That’s the point. If a dog growls and barks, most people are afraid and just stay the hell away from them. It often works to just appear intimidating. This is built into me. I defy anyone who tries to tell me to do something I don’t want to do. These things make it difficult for me to “allow” Adam to lead if I don’t feel like it. It truly isn’t because I think it’s funny to be an asshole. I don’t enjoy disappointing my husband. I might be even more proud of myself, when I do something right, that was hard for me, than Adam is! It takes a whole lot for me to “submit” to him, even in small ways, sometimes. I do want to! I love to make Adam feel good. Good about me, and especially about himself. He’s probably the most patient man I’ve ever known. Thank God, because I would frustrate the living hell out of most guys who expect a wife who follows their lead. That just ain’t me, always. Sometimes it is. I can be the things both Adam and I are looking for. I have to work so hard to get there, though. This is why I used the analogy about the bag of marbles and how, Adam pulls one out every time I screw up, and eventually, I’ll run out of marbles. Then what? Will he throw his hands up and say “she’s never going to get there”, and walk away? You’d think these fears would encourage me to stop screwing up! It’s just not that easy!

I truly do appreciate that he’s calling me out. I don’t always enjoy it, but I do appreciate it. There are times, just hours after he’s spanked me for something, I’ll fucking do it again, and I’m in my own head thinking “what the hell is wrong with you?!” I have to decide whether to be honest, which is very important to both of us, or whether it’s too dangerous to admit this screw up, now? I’m not going to pretend like I’m not afraid of what might happen to my behind, because I definitely am, but I’m also deeply afraid that he will be so disappointed, so frustrated, he will give up on me. If I hold a secret in, even one so stupid that it’s ridiculous, it eats away at me so bad. For reasons I don’t even understand, I’ll get angry. I’ll take it out on, of all people, Adam. Stupid? Yes. Logical? Nope. But, it’s what the hell I do!

I worry that maybe Adam will start to pay too much attention. Maybe he’ll start to see things in me that he can’t “fix”. I understand that I’m never going to be perfect. That’s impossible. I just worry that my imperfections will be so highlighted, he’ll think I’m too much. These are my thoughts when I have to tell him I did something that I know he isn’t going to be happy about. Well, I think about what he’s going to do, too. Like, how mad is he, really? Am I going to have to sleep on my stomach? Is he just trying to scare me, and my ass is fine? Did I fuck up so bad, that now he’s just done trying? He can assure me every five minutes that he won’t give up on me, and it still doesn’t seem to change this thought process for me. We were trying to figure out an approximate amount of times we’ve had sex, the other night. We guessed somewhere around 4,000 times. Even still, sometimes, I worry that he won’t find me attractive. So, by that logic, I may screw up and get 4,000 spankings and still be afraid he’s going to get tired of my bullshit!

I think I have made big improvements. I have brought so much more to Adam than I would’ve ever done, not too long ago. I do trust him. My gosh, I really do. Why can’t I trust that he won’t leave me the next time I screw up? That’s dumb. I know it. Logical, rational, sane me knows it. There’s this piece of me that I can’t quite seem to “fix”, or maybe “heal”?

I don’t know if I’ll ever stop doing the shit I do. My realistic goal, is to do it much less. Believe it or not, I am getting there. It’s kind of sad how much unacceptable crap I have been accustomed to doing, until recently. Adam is insisting that I don’t keep doing some of the things that I’ve literally always done. I can’t change, overnight. That doesn’t mean I’m not trying to do better. To be better. I am.