Aftershocks!

The last twenty four hours have, quite honestly, been almost the worst in my life.

We'd had a lovely Saturday.  Just usual things about the house.  Then a trip out shopping to a large wholesale outlet.  

When we arrived home it was already getting dark (I haven't noticed the nights drawing out much yet!) and after I'd put stuff away I put some fillet steak (we have friends who breed Red Poll cattle and had been given some steaks for Christmas) in a little marinade, prepared some chips (fries) and salad, and put some baby deep-fried camembert cheeses in the oven for starters.  Starman made us both large gin and tonics.  No 1 son was away out to a surprise 'big' birthday party for his girl friend's father in a restaurant a few miles away.  

We had our meal and chatted companionably.  The G and Ts went down a treat!

"Heh, we're alone for once" I said.  "Isn't the place quiet?"

"Hmmmm" Starman looked longingly at the coffee machine, so I made us a latte each.

"Perhaps we can continue our conversation from last night?"  I looked at him.

"Oh good grief.  I thought we could relax."  Starman was a little put out.

"It's just that I still have a lot to talk about" I went on.  "I was a bit overwrought last night, and I was thinking today, that I need to explain how I got into all this in the first place."

Starman made some sort of joke and I told him that I felt he wasn't taking me very seriously.  

"Alright then" he said.  "Get talking.  I'm listening."

So I did.

I started at the beginning and went all the way through.  I explained that three years ago after my heart attack I had realised how short life was, and that I wanted to make the most of every minute of it.  I had redesigned myself by losing some weight, having my hair cut short, and changing my makeup.  Then I had gradually become more adventurous in the bedroom.  

He smiled.  He had approved of all of it.

Then, I went on, you suggested that I read 50 Shades.  (Yes, it was Starman's idea, but he didn't know what it was about, just that it was a popular book!)

I read all three of them.

I was wide-eyed with surprise.  I read them about four times!  Wow!  This wasn't actually something just found in brothels.  Real people did these things.  Nice, ordinary people.  Normal people.  Wow!

A convent education and strict parents, coupled with meeting my husband at a school dance when I was only sixteen did nothing for my sexual education.  He has been my first and only.  He hadn't been much more experienced.  Some things, nice girls didn't do.  I was very, very inhibited.  But then, he wasn't really sure how to lead me in those days.  And in those days, well, you didn't have a different man every night like now.  You didn't go out getting drunk night after night outside clubs and pubs like many of today's teens.  (In Europe anyway!)  My parents stayed up and waited for me to be home if I went out.  And even at nearly 20 I had to be home by 11pm.  And they ALWAYS knew where I was going, and who with!

So I did a little research.  And I did a little shopping.  First over the internet, and then I visited Ann Summers (you'e heard me mention it before).  I became bold.  The assistants in the shop are always very helpful.  I learnt a lot.

I took my purchases home and gradually introduced them to Starman.  He doesn't do 'tying up' but he was pleasantly delighted with some of my new toys.  

We've had great fun trying them out.  Learning together.  We feel very naughty, sexy, brave, excited....  It has done wonders for us.

So.  So far so good.

Then I started reading spanking stories.  I found them fascinating.  I couldn't believe what I was reading.  Some are downright fiction, some are scary, but many have nice happy endings, and I noticed that they all seemed to have one thing in common.  Domestic discipline.

Now, what was that, I wondered.

So I researched.  

On some of the sites my hair nearly stop on end.  Some are definitely sensationalist.  One person persuaded me to spend money to download a book which upset me so much I cried.  (Boot Camp? - remember?)  And then I found Sara.

Sara was wonderful to me.  When I think of some of my comments I cringe.  But she was very patient.  And gradually I began to understand.  Gradually I realised that the same people commented every time.  They all had different personalities, but they also all had one thing in common.  Spanking in some shape or form.

I began to read the blogs.  I read and I read.  I became daring and made a few comments here and there.  Then I started to ask quite long questions.  (Thank you so much, you know who you are, you were all so welcoming and patient with me!)

Something went click in my brain.  I felt at home among these people.  I felt comfortable.  And the spanking urge wouldn't go away.  It grew until it began to take me over.  And so that it how it all started.

But what you don't realise when you first begin, is that in your head you have already submitted.  You have already been living TTWD for several months.  And by then you know it in much more depth.  And then you dump it on your unsuspecting husband's head.  Not just superficially like at the start.  But in detail.

And it isn't you that runs for the hills.

It's him.

So we are full circle, and you are now more in the picture.  But there's more.

Starman is very interested in the 4 Ds.  I explain them to him.  He's noticed that I am following them as well as I am able.  He particularly remembers the 'car keys' event, and 'choosing a turkey'.  It begins to fall into place.  

But it's with 'Respect' that we begin to come unstuck.  And 'Obey'.

And as we sit there talking more and more comes out.  I feel as if I'm an extra in Groundhog Day.  Starman is back to 'telling it how it is'.  It's worse than I had at first thought.  I'm in a nightmare scenario.  I'm so shaken that the silences gradually lengthen.  

We retreat to the living room and the sofas.  He puts the TV on.  I am so distressed I fall asleep and wake an hour later.  To quote Willie "I felt as if I had been in a mangle or drier, and come out like a long, twisted duvet cover".  I excused myself at around 11.45pm and went to bed.  

I heard No 1 son arrive back, and talking downstairs, and then quiet fell over the barn.  Starman came to bed, pulled the duvet up round his ears, and promptly snored for England.  Clinging to my side of the bed I tossed and turned.  I got up to visit the bathroom.  I drank some water.  I watched the night sky.  I went downstairs and made a decaff and took some paracetamol.

In the end I retreated to the spare bedroom.  I then lay there and tossed and turned.

All the while I was crying softly.  Tears soaking into my pillow.  I never knew I had so much water in my body.

Eventually I slept at around 7.30 am.  I woke up when Starman put his head round the door at 9.00 am.  I was still crying.

I was dizzy with exhaustion.  Starman went downstairs and made tea.  He was taking my job!  He brought it back and herded me back into our bedroom.  He wasn't having any more of this spare bedroom game!

I explained that some of the information he had chosen to share with me last night had knocked me for six.  It had completely flattened me like a wrecking ball.  I'd spent all night wondering how I would manage on my own without him.  It was such a horrible thing to contemplate that I started to shake.

Starman, once again, folded me into his arms.  

He must have assured me of his love about a hundred times.  He must have assured me that I had changed a great deal about a hundred times.  And he certainly hugged me and kissed me about a hundred times.

"Now then Ami.  This stops here and now."  His quietly serious voice was back.  "It's in the past.  You are forgiven.  There is no resentment.  There is no ill-feeling.  There must be no guilt.  Do you understand?"

I was being a limp dishcloth so I wasn't able to reply.  He took my chin in a tight grip and made me nod my head.

Then he made love to me in a slow, gentle and considerate way.

"And now do you think you could make me some breakfast?" he smiled at me.

*****

So I suppose you could say that we have now managed to negotiate those cracks in the road - those places where the road had disappeared down the mountainside.  We've managed to skirt around the boulders.

We are still sploshing through the muddy water.  But we are holding hands once again.  We are no longer on different rails on a railway track.  

And in future, I hope I will have the sense to follow immediately behind him and put my feet in his footsteps when the going gets tough.  Because I know it will.  It always does.

For us, this dynamic isn't going to happen in just six weeks.  It's going to take a great deal longer.  There are so many things to learn.  And I know that punishment spankings are definitely out for the foreseeable future.  Starman told me very firmly that he will give me a suitable warning if I show signs of moving off the straight and narrow.  He also told me that maintenance will not be on a set day.  He finds it too inflexible.  It has to work for us, not us for it.

And now I have to end this post.  I feel better today and I want to read some of yours.  So I'll leave you with a little 'poem' a dear friend sent me this morning.  It's funny how this, and three wonderful emails from Willie, Lillie and Dear Fireman hit everything that has happened directly on target!

"As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself.  I've become my own friend.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world, too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with ageing.

Whose business is it, if I choose to read, or play, on the computer, until 4am, or sleep until noon?  I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's, 70's and 80's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love, I will.

I will walk the beach, in a swimsuit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves, with abandon, if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.  They, too, will age.

I know I am sometimes forgetful.  But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten.  And, I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken.... How can your heart not break, when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car?  But, broken hearts are what give us strength, and understanding, and compassion.  A heart never broken, is pristine, and sterile, and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to  have lived long enough to have my hair turning grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.... So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive.  You care less about what other people think.  I don't question myself anymore.  I've even earned the right to be wrong!

So, to answer your question, I like ageing.  It has set me free.  I like the person I have become.  I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be.  

And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it)."

PS - My hair is blonde, my body isn't bulging, just a little thick around the waist, I can't dive, and I very rarely eat dessert.  LOL

May our friendship never come apart, especially when it's straight from the heart!

Hugs, Ami