I was listening to a podcast, this morning. A husband and wife discuss their relationship, and their own take on discipline within their marriage. It really struck me, hearing them talk about “maintenance spankings”. For me, I’ve always kind of felt it would be cruel if Adam seriously spanked me, and I’d crossed no boundaries to deserve it. I thought it would devastate me, if I’d done nothing wrong, but he punished me as if I had. Wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose? As I continued to listen to this couple, I heard some explanations I hadn’t truly considered before. The wife talked about how, when she hadn’t broken any rules in awhile, she’d start to doubt whether her husband was still “in this” with her. She’d begin to consider acting out on purpose, just to make sure he was still paying attention. Obviously, that’s not a good idea. Still, I can relate. The husband also mentioned something I hadn’t thought of. He said it made him feel more confident and capable that he could hold her accountable, when necessary, if they “maintained” their “dynamic”. I wondered if Adam has struggled with this? Until yesterday, I hadn’t been in serious trouble, in 3 months! I have rolled my eyes, flipped him off, things like that. He hasn’t spanked me in that “I MEAN IT, don’t do that again” kind of way, though. Not for those things. If he does really “mean it”, I haven’t gotten that message. I know he doesn’t like it, when I’m disrespectful in how I act or speak, but it doesn’t come across as the kind of things that get me in serious trouble with him. Even last night, I didn’t feel that he was genuinely that upset with me. The spanking didn’t hurt much at all. While, in the moment, I’m grateful, I think it does send mixed messages. He doesn’t want to be a jerk. I’ve been pretty damn good, for quite awhile. Adam wants to show me he appreciates that. On the other hand, I wind up wondering whether, or not, he was really serious. I tell myself he didn’t care that much. Maybe he was just trying to scare me. I mean, I spent hours wondering and worrying about what he would do, when he came home. When it turns out to be not too big a deal, that’s exactly how I take it. What I did was not that big a deal.
I don’t enjoy making my husband upset. I hate disappointing him. Having his hand leave bruises on my butt, that I can feel for days, that’s not fun. I don’t ever purposely look for that kind of trouble. I think, well…I know, I sometimes intentionally push his “smaller” buttons, though. The ones that I assume are no big deal. Rolling my eyes, for example. I hadn’t thought much about it, until now. I think I need to know he’s still got me. He’s still here. He’s still watching out for me, and for us.
I don’t necessarily think that “maintenance” spanking is for me. I can’t imagine I would respond well, to feeling punished for being good. I always love his playful smacks! I don’t want to get more than that without deserving it, though. I do wonder if a part of me doesn’t act out, because I don’t take him seriously. If I break one of our rules, and walk out of “the office” smiling, I clearly didn’t feel there was very much “bite”, behind Adam’s “bark”.
I don’t mean to suggest that I think Adam’s weak. He’s not! In fact, he is so strong, he is able to control his emotions. He is able to use the “tools” that he knows will actually work on me. He doesn’t raise his voice to me. He isn’t cruel. He’s careful to always remind me he loves me, even when he’s angry. Those things make me respect the hell out of my husband. I just have a hard time knowing exactly where his “line” is, sometimes. Was he goofing around? Was he just enjoying making me worry about whether he was serious, but he wasn’t really? Did he fucking mean it, but he kept his hard hand gentle, because he didn’t want to be a jerk? After all, I had been pretty damn good, lately. I think?
This one’s not quite the wholesome, innocent, sweet kind of post I usually make. It’s on my mind, this morning, and this is my story to tell. I’ve used my blog like a journal. I am married, after all, and sex is frequent in my marriage. Wanted to give fair warning, though. So, here goes…
Adam and I have some form of sex, most every single day. If I’m on my period, I’ll service my man orally. Occasionally, he decides to use my “back door”. I’m pretty open about my opinion of anal sex, when I talk with my girlfriends. It can actually be really fun! It’s naughty. It feels very different than vaginal sex. It isn’t painful, if done right.
I was fighting off a UTI. If I don’t make myself go pee, after sex, I am in danger of developing one. When I was younger, I had so many UTI’s, I was put on a low dose antibiotic everyday, for 6 months. I miscarried a baby, because of my constant UTI’s. I’ve learned how to (mostly) avoid them. Peeing after sex is a big one. Occasionally, I fall asleep naked, in Adam’s arms, and I don’t make it to the bathroom. This is exactly what happened, this weekend. So, I was drinking lots of water, and doing my best to avoid needing antibiotics.
When we went to bed, I was eager for any form of sexual intimacy, with my husband. I kissed his neck, his chest, his inner thighs, until my mouth found its way to his waiting manhood. When we were finished, I curled up in Adam’s arms, and went to sleep. I was awakened, a few hours later, when I felt him sliding my panties down. He was kissing the back of my neck, while his hands wandered over my body. I purred a little, alerting him that I was now awake. He reached over me, opening the drawer in our nightstand. He pulled out a bottle of lubricant, and readied himself. I moaned, as he began to find his way inside of me. He was “spooning” me, as we lay on our sides. His fingers touched me, moving in exactly the right ways to make me orgasm. I felt him climax. He pulled himself from inside of me, and we went back to sleep.
I woke up with my panties still down to my knees. A reminder of what we had done, hours earlier. We don’t do anal sex very often, which makes it even more of a turn on. I’m already fantasizing about tonight. The UTI has been averted. I’m feeling great. I can’t wait to get my husband between my legs again.
I truly believe good sex is a sure way to keep a relationship strong and healthy. Fourteen years with this man, and I still can’t get enough of him. I love to be wanted. I enjoy giving over my body to this one man. I wasn’t exactly “experienced”, when I met Adam. I lost my virginity to my ex. He was the only other man I’ve ever been with. I feel safe with Adam. His confidence and ability, in the bedroom, have shown me just how much fun sex can be. My comfort in knowing and trusting this man who is taking me, that’s the reason I’m so happily willing to give myself over to him. I’m his. And he’s mine.
If I don’t have music playing in the background, I’ll have a podcast I’m listening to. I’ve heard some interesting ones, recently. People talking about “high value men”, and women’s “body counts”. I discovered my husband is in the top 3.25% of American men. Statistically, only 15% of men are taller than 6 feet. If you also want him to be good looking, not obese or ugly, that halves, to 7.5%. If you want him making over $100,000 a year, it halves again. So, he’s 3.25% of men. I’ve always highly valued my man, but I hadn’t ever looked at it like that. According to the “experts” on this podcast, “high value men” cheat. Women shouldn’t expect them to be faithful, because all women are fighting for the top 10% of men. If they’re in that, you can’t expect monogamy. Bullshit! I didn’t marry him when he was making money. We struggled and sacrificed. We have built the life we have, together! Even Adam gives me credit, in his success. If I didn’t take care of our kids, our home, him, then he wouldn’t have been able to devote the same time and energy into his career. He had an old college friend come by, one time. His friend was going on and on about how his wife didn’t ever do anything, because she was a new mom. They had a 4 month old new baby! Adam looked at his friend, and told him “I could never trade places with Eve. She works hard, everyday. It’s not easy to take care of our babies, our home, our finances, and she does an amazing job of it.” Hearing my husband say those words, especially to this friend of his, stuck with me all this time! It means a lot to me, when he appreciates me, too.
Truthfully, he definitely works harder than I do. Just compare our hands. He has rough, calloused hands. Mine are soft and smooth. My day is easier than his, even on the harder days. I texted him, awhile back, and told him about what my morning had entailed. The dog threw up on our bed. Our daughter was sick. She’d been throwing up. There was a lot happening, but I told him I’m here washing our bedding, after having to clean up puke all morning, and thinking, I am so grateful that I can be here, taking care of our baby when she’s sick. Even when I’m doing the dirtiest jobs, I would rather be here, cleaning up puke, than doing Adam’s job! He’d rather be doing what he does, to take care of his family. I’d rather be doing what I do, to take care of my family. We see such value in each other, and the way we each contribute to our family. I think some folks out in “podcast land”, have cynical ideas about men and women. Like men want beauty and sex, and women look at men like wallets. It makes me sad for the people who go through life, with that type of mindset. Relationships aren’t about “what can you give me”. Fulfillment comes from the things I can do for my husband, and vice versa, for him with me. It’s not supposed to be a 50/50 partnership. You both give everything you can. We choose to love each other. You don’t always feel like it. You do it anyway. These people, who only see relationships as a transaction, they’re missing out on something so beautiful.
I couldn’t imagine starting over. The connection Adam and I have built together, is worth more than all the money and sex ever could be. There’s more to life than just money and sex. It makes me sad that there are people who might never know that for themselves.
I need to start right off by saying, this is not for everyone. I’m only discussing what’s right for me, and what works for my husband and I.
Why does Adam spank me? To put it simply, because it works! I respond to him much differently, when he has the ability to “humble” me. I’m very quick witted. I can successfully argue just about anything, even if I’m wrong. I don’t back down easily. I am stubborn. Knowing that Adam can, and will, very calmly bring me into our bedroom, pull my pants down, and spank my behind without hesitation, changes the way I choose to interact with him. It forces me to stop and think, before I say or do something that I shouldn’t.
Why would you want to be treated like a child? You should be equal to your spouse! Personally, I don’t believe my husband and I are “equal”. We are certainly valued, equally. We are not the same, though. He has strengths that I readily admit I do not. He is a man, who takes his responsibilities as a husband and a provider very seriously. I am a woman. I have chosen to take the role of his helper. I have different responsibilities. I also have so many privileges that he doesn’t. I can stay inside, where there’s a constant comfortable temperature. I make decisions about our home and our children. I make decisions for myself. I even make plenty of decisions for Adam. The only time I’m “overruled”, is when Adam says so. He doesn’t do that often, though! I am perfectly able to voice my opinions. I can argue my perspectives. The only thing I cannot do, is disrespect my husband. If I try to argue with him by insulting him, or berating him, that just isn’t accepted. If a decision is made, and I disobey it, that is not acceptable. If I didn’t trust my husband to always be looking out for me and for our family, I would never have married him! I want, hell I need, my husband to be a leader. I appreciate his authority. I don’t want that job! We are living out a “traditional” marriage, in a modern world. I’ve said many times, I am not a doormat. I am not invisible. I am not meek and silent and abused. Adam works his ass off every single minute, so that I can have all the things I could ever want. He literally lives to make his family safe, comfortable, and content. He puts our needs first, always. All he wants is a little respect. I’m doing my best to give it to him. Still, I’m a flawed human being. I’ve lived most of my life thinking, talking, and acting the way I “felt like”. When Adam spanks me, I realize several things at once. First, holy crap, he means it. Second, holy crap, he loves me, even though he’s really upset. He doesn’t yell at me, because I do not respond well to it. He knows that. He knows when to be firm, and when to show me some softness. He knows me. He’s taken the time to learn who I am, and what works for us. Will this work for everyone? Of course not. I am happy. I am secure. I am satisfied. I am madly in love with my husband, and he loves me right back, in all the ways I need.
I also have to throw in, that Adam and I talk to each other much more than other couples I know. We don’t hold back. We can tell each other anything. There aren’t secrets. We just speak to each other respectfully. Adam respects me. He doesn’t insult me. He doesn’t bark orders at me. He puts me first! I am very well looked after, and I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.
One more thing worth mentioning, is that Adam and I have more sex than other couples I know. Like a lot more sex. We’ve been together for 14 years, and I am crazy about him. We haven’t gotten bored with each other. We definitely aren’t boring, in bed. I may be trying my best to be a lady in the streets, but best believe, I’m a freak in the sheets…for Adam 😉
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.
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 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!
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.
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.
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.
Chronicles in Submission 