This is likely to be a long post, so if you don't want to bother - I forgive you! I have also just finally discovered (don't be surprised, I am blonde you know!) how to import images to use instead of having to create all my own. So I have gone mad with them!!!
It's taken me a long time to process this spanking, and even now I'm not sure my brain and my bottom are connected, but I finally feel the need to talk about it.
At first, I admit, I viewed our journey through somewhat rose-tinted specs.
I don't know what I had in mind exactly. I just know I wanted to take this journey so bad I could have taken my skin off, shaken it out, and put it back on again - and it would still have itched like the blazes.
So we began, tentatively at first, then tentatively still, and then even more tentatively.
The road looked easy enough to travel - from where I was standing.
It was good and straight. There was very little, if any, other traffic. Just a pleasant, shady, greenness that enfolded us and lured us onwards one step at a time.
Occasionally we hit a little bump, or ended up making a small detour, but nothing that we couldn't handle and ultimately work out.
But now Starman seems to be growing into his HOH role (if that is what it is) rather quicker than I can cope with. A very slow learning curve for weeks on end, and now POW! he has taken off in a BIG way! Or so it seems to me....
I should have suspected about three weeks ago when he suddenly started referring to my "resets" as "maintenance" spankings.
I was offered some advice about relinquishing control, about prising my fingers open one at a time. It was soon after that that he employed not only the leather paddle, but the HH in quite a deliberate way, to sort out my "attitude". I was fairly dumbstruck!
And then, only a matter of days later, something else happened.
He'd been away all day, a good two and a half hour's car journey at the sort of speeds that Starman likes to drive, running a high level meeting.
The house was all peace and quiet for a change - and I enjoyed it! I got up late and did all the things I don't usually get to do, like sewing my patchwork, messing around in the garden, and a considerable time playing on the blogs. The time just flew!
I knew, and had planned, just what I wanted to cook for dinner that evening; and I had half prepared it.
Then the inevitable happened, and Murphy's Law kicked in. I had a whole series of telephone calls, and even a couple of friends called in and stayed chatting rather longer than I had time for.
Still, I decided that I would chill a bottle of wine and we'd have a relaxing drink together when he got home, whilst I finished cooking. And I thought I still had plenty of time!
He arrived back much earlier than I had anticipated. I was still in the "cooking preparation" stage before it was to go in the oven for 45 minutes.
Oh well. I offered him a glass of wine and he refused and said he would have some with dinner. He went through his mail and popped out into his office to check his emails on the "big screen" instead of on his mobile. He then returned to the kitchen and our son came in and joined us. The men sat at the table discussing their day. I was beginning to feel harassed.
When Starman saw me put the meal in the oven to finish cooking he asked me if I knew what the time was. I glanced at the clock and saw it was much later than I had realised, due to the phone calls, callers etc. He drummed his fingers on the table, and looked at me with exasperation.
I told him that he was welcome to have it but that it would be half raw.
Red rag to a bull!
I could feel my temper rising but I was very upset that he was not giving me the benefit of the doubt.
We continued to argue over dinner, and he told me that it seemed to him that dinner was getting later and later every day, every week. I got furious with him. I told him we weren't five year olds and that we don't need to eat at 5 o'clock every day, and that 7.30 was hardly midnight!
Our son sat and ate in silence. When he had finished, he cleared away his plate, put it in the dishwasher, and left us to it. By this time both Starman and I were seething and there was a definite frosty silence.
I slammed around clearing the kitchen and putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and washing the few other odds and bits at the sink.
Starman went and sat on the sofa with the newspaper, and the TV on, gadget firmly in hand, and snoozed. (He had had an extremely early start.) I got fed up in the end, and took myself off to bed and read my Kindle. When he finally came to bed I was already asleep.
It poured with rain all night, and I awoke at around 2am and just couldn't get back to sleep until around 5. In fact, I took myself off to the spare room, but all that gave me was a bad back and a crick in my neck! When I awoke around 7.30 I felt like something the cat had brought in!
However, I got up and went downstairs and got us tea/coffee and brought it back to bed.
We sat and drank in total silence!
I had thought the argument had blown over, although I continued to feel annoyed and uncomfortable. But Starman had other ideas.
Although his anger from the previous night had died down, he was still pretty cross with me. He waited until I had finished my coffee. Then he turned to me.
"You, madam, have a spanking due! Get your kit off and go get an implement!"
"I beg your pardon".
He had that sort of "don't you dare mess with me" look on his face.
"When you first started this thing Ami, what was it you said to me? Something about Disobedience, Dishonesty, Disrespect and Danger?"
"I may have done...."
"You know damn well you did! Now which of those do you think I ought to spank you for?!!!"
"You've got to be joking, right?"
"Do I look as if I am joking? Go get an implement and get into position!"
My feet would hardly move. I was stunned. Completely taken aback.
Our son was home doing his invoicing and wages, and I was terrified he would hear us. I strongly objected, but Starman was immoveable. He repeated his request that I undress and lay across his lap.
I stood looking at our little collection of
"Bring the wooden spatula" came the command, "and hurry up! This will, due to circumstance, only be a short spanking, but believe me Ami, you will feel every single stroke of it!"
I fetched the spatula with the greatest of reluctance, which I
It was a butt-searingly awful spanking! He held me down securely with his left arm, put his right leg over both mine to stop me kicking him, and spanked and spanked! He spanked many times on the same spot, and he really spanked harder than I can ever remember. He told me he was determined to get his point across that all I did was procrastinate, ignore his requests, and then make out that he was in the wrong.
I was very upset because I had had such good intentions for him coming home, and dinner. I really, truly felt the punishment was unjustified.
He had told me it would be a short spanking, but it went on and on.
When, at one point, I thought it had finished, he started up again. He even adjusted me slightly bringing my bottom higher, and he spanked my sit spots and the sides of my buttocks.
He lectured me the whole time about disobedience, disrespect and dishonesty, and I couldn't reply because I was too busy sobbing into the duvet so that I wouldn't be heard.
He finally let me up and cuddled and soothed me but I was so upset and indignant with him. I really felt he was mistaken and was refusing to see my point of view. I had never felt that way before.
I remained angry, with angry tears that wouldn't stop coming. I sat there stiffly and refused to put my arms around him despite his encouragement.
He was implacable.
He lifted me back across his lap and gently rubbed my bottom.
Then he touched me - there!
I was still sniffling loudly at this point, my bottom throbbing.
He laughed! Yes he did! He laughed!
Then he became more persistent.
I wriggled. My horrible, wretched body wouldn't co-operate with my feelings of resentment!
"Let me up - I hate you!" I wailed.
"No you don't" he told me, and laughed again and nestled his face in my boobs before launching a full on attack and making me cry, laugh and shriek in the same breath.
My body forced me to capitulate - but I was still deeply annoyed.
To make matters worse, I had a dental appointment to prepare a back tooth for the fitting of a crown, which was also painful, and entailed me sitting in the dentist's chair for at least an hour. Not only was I bruised, but a very angry red, and sitting still was the last thing I wanted.
It took me all day to think about what had taken place, and to come to terms with it, while Starman was fine, and acted as if nothing untoward had happened.
I thought and thought. This wasn't how it was meant to be surely?
We had been jogging along, slowly and uneventfully. Maybe there had been the odd indication that Starman was growing horns, antlers, spurs? But nothing in particular. I enjoyed being spanked - right? Starman enjoyed spanking me - didn't he?
All of a sudden, what was this?!!! I had planned such a nice dinner! Even wine! And he had spoiled it all!
My mind turned in circles all day. I even emailed a couple of friends in my 'anger, anxiety and quest to get answers'. And then it gradually dawned, like the first star of the evening - Venus isn't it?
I remembered Mick's post very clearly - something about the husband suddenly "getting it" and the wife then wondering what 'entity' she had let loose into the world!!
But let me put your minds at rest.
The spanking probably didn't take much more than fifteen minutes. He lectured during the spanking and between the flurries, and then again before the second half of the spanking. In my head, and as far as my butt was concerned, it seemed very much longer, because there is no doubt that it was a 'serious' spanking instead of just a 'warning' or 'maintenance' or even a 'stress release' spanking. I was crying too hard to be able to respond to any questions, and anyway, I was too mad!
It was the first ever time it took me by surprise, and I wasn't being allowed to protest or say anything to get out of it.
To those of you who use wooden paddles, and even comparing it to our wooden backed hairbrush (which is large, oval and solid), the wooden spatula is fairly small, quite thin, and gives sharp, stinging, scalding swats. It is lightweight and easy to use with a flick of the wrist. The burning sensation is absolutely horrid, but it could never, ever 'harm' me, and Starman has become quite the expert in its use. He has learned to use the nasty thing with maximum skill and effectiveness, to impart a message to my bottom and thereby to my brain. The spanks administered to the regions where thigh meets buttock, and on the sides of the buttocks, were the worst and hurt like hell.
But what hurt the most was the realisation that I had earned that spanking.
I knew he was completely right to spank me, and that he was wise not to let anything get in its way. He took the decision to act as soon he could, and to his credit, he let his anger die away first, hence saving the spanking until the morning.
When we first discussed this life change, and I explained to him that I wanted him to take back control, I suppose I had my own romantic ideas of what it would be like. That everything would gradually develop and it would all be easy. It's simply not the case is it? As soon as you have overcome one learning curve, there is another one, even steeper, behind it.
I gave him the control, but I disregarded the consequences. And then I felt angry and resentful that he had followed through. Whilst I was delighted and relieved that he had taken back the power in our household, I was hurt and indignant and humbled in a way I have never felt before.
We have talked about it all. About the reasons and about the consequences. It makes sense, it really does. My temperament, the tone of my voice, the edge to it sometimes when I get worked up, is something that he has warned me about and has wanted to address for a very long time.
In essence, it wasn't really so much about the "late dinner" but more about disobedience, disrespect and dishonesty. It was simply a coincidence that I had chosen to write about 'attitude' a day or so before in a post, and all I can say is that Starman is now very determined to break the cycle. He was especially angry that he felt I was talking to him like a subordinate, and in front of our son too. It is behaviour he is no longer willing to put up with.
He always has hated traffic jams! He needed to get the system cleared and sorted out once and for all.
We discussed the fact that I thought it hurt too much, and that when I thought it had stopped he started again. He explained that this is part of where I am trying to remain in control. He said that it is for him to decide when I may get up, and that he was just reinforcing that fact, and would continue to do so in the future. He said that nothing would make him happier than to have "good girl" spankings all the time; but that we had discussed that we wanted to give this a go, and that it might take some time to get it right for us, and that it was my job to trust him.
I bruise very easily. One of the reasons is that I take a low dosage aspirin every day. Yet I have noticed that it is that one particular implement (the wooden spatula) that has more than a tendency to leave bruises. Even the HH, used liberally, leaves only a glowing redness.
The other thing is that he gave me no warm up - he went straight into the punishment. His way of thinking was that he didn't feel I deserved a warm up because the punishment needed to have maximum effect on me. Also, the areas that were the most bruised were those he spanked again and again on the same spot. He said he has noticed that, for me, that is an excellent away of reinforcing what he had to say.
Another thing that led to my feelings of anger, was that instead of just being allowed to climb on to his lap and be cuddled afterwards, and reassured, he wanted to make love to me - and my body reacted to him accordingly! In my view I wasn't given time to get my head around what had just happened.
In his mind, I had been punished, forgiven, and was how receiving the biggest assurance of his love he could give me. Yet my mind, and my bottom, were still trying to process the severity of the spanking.
We have had no end of discussion about all of this. There are many "Whys?" to find answers for.
I have had to acknowledge that sometimes I will not agree with his judgement, and will get spanked anyway. This will certainly be, in Starman's view, just the first of many spankings that I initially don't agree with. But he is now in control and I have to give him my trust. Especially now that my butt is going to be on the line. He will hear me out - but the call will be his.
For several days now he has been going around pawing at the ground, puffing out his chest feathers, and roaring a warning every time he thinks I may be leaning towards a misjudgement of circumstance.
I find that I have started to share my thoughts with him much more than in the past - asking his opinion for a start, before just jumping in with both feet! But I have noticed that he is doing lots of small things because he wants to please me too.
It's taken a week, but I think we are in a better place now than we were before. For a while there it was touch and go. It wasn't even as if we were out of step. Instead of dancing together we had danced away from each other.
As I mentioned before, you have to remember that there are two of you in this. It's not going to be all hearts and flowers every minute. Work, health, stress levels, children, in-laws, even the weather - they all conspire to put a spanner in the works from time to time. Unless something miraculous happens in the meantime, to the whole of mankind, we are all going to continue to have feet of clay.
And in case you are wondering, yes, there is more. But I'll save that till next time....