The Proof of the Pudding

I was doing some thinking the other day.

Quite often I do my best thinking when staring at the floor boards.  (Funny that.)

I'd been reading a short 'spanky' book on my Kindle about some poor lil ole girl in the Old West, who met some man and ended up married to him within six hours, and being spanked by him within seven hours.

It was a very enjoyable romp.  He used every implement known to man, spanked long and hard, lectured like a pro, and stood her in the corner at the beginning, middle and end.  Whew!

She was beautiful, young, slim and feisty.  She got up at 6.30am, baked biscuits, cooked an enormous breakfast, had lunch waiting and dinner planned and prepared to perfection for when he arrived home weary and saddlesore.  She washed his shirts in a tub outside (carrying water by the pail) and kept the house clean, tidy and well polished, whilst managing to feed hens, collect eggs, milk the cow and feed the pigs.  Yet she still had time to ride off for miles on jaunts, swim in secluded ponds, spend money they didn't have on things they didn't need, be rude and abrupt with their family and neighbours, swear like a trooper and be disrespectful with her new husband - and yet behave like a sex goddess at the drop of a hat both day and night.  Oh, and when she got spanked it was upwards of a hundred times and she screamed and yelled, had to be held down, had her hands restrained behind her back, struggled so much she nearly threw herself off the aforesaid husband's knees, couldn't sit down for the next several days and had to eat standing up, and immediately told him how sorry she was and how much she loved and adored him.  Whew!!

So there I was thinking.

I was thinking about Consistency and I was thinking about all my mates in Blogland, and in particular I was thinking about Dan.

Now Dan isn't particularly consistent.  He would perhaps like to think he is, but he isn't.  It used to bother me a lot.  But now I just go with the flow most of the time, and the other bit of time I muddle my way through as best I can.  But why does he have a problem with consistency, and why do I think he isn't consistent?  After all, he might be.  My perception of him might be wrong.

It seems to me that there are three main types of people who do DD or TTWD.

There are those people who started because they had very real problems with their marriages.  They heard/read/happened upon blogs/found out from friends/had family members who were/are involved in it, and having talked things through they decided (for whatever reason) to give it a shot, in the hope that it would stop the rot, fix their rocky marriage/relationship, put an end to arguments and constant disagreements, and draw them closer together and reaffirm their love for one another.

Then there are those people where the husband, either because he has been brought up in a DD family, or because he has a naturally dominant personality knows deep within himself that there can only be one head of his household - and he is it, and therefore he brings DD to his wife and expects/convinces her, to become his TIH.

Finally, there are those people where the woman brings DD to her husband.  She does it for a variety of reasons.  She may feel their marriage is stagnating or becoming unbearably boring.  She may feel divorce is looming ever closer on the horizon.  She may be wondering why they live like ships passing in the night. She may think their sex life is non existent. She may have had a light bulb moment and realised that she was nagging and hounding her poor spouse into an early grave.  Or whatever.  But she came upon the word 'spanking', read about it, researched it, was perhaps initially horrified by it, grew intrigued with it, perhaps discovered some blogs about others who practised it, and finally decided it was what was going to save her marriage/relationship, so she eventually gets up the courage to do something about it, and she brings DD to her husband.

Whew!

I love reading blog posts.  Just at present I have very little time to do them justice.  I try to comment whenever I can.  I've made many really good friends here, and the advice and support I've received is second to none and if anyone from the outside world tried to upset anyone - well, just call me and see my kevlar body armour!  Blogger is leading me a dance and not letting me add all the blogs I follow to my list, so I apologise and believe me, I try my best and I am sorry if I haven't been on your blog lately.  Whew!

Where was I?

Oh yes, consistency.  

So what I perceive is this.  Group number one don't seem to have any real issues with consistency.  It's a given.  They have talked about and studied the dynamic together, they have practised everything they should have practised, they have (in many cases) their rules in place, their implements in a drawer/box/cupboard, the rituals of once, twice, three times a week, plus disciplinary spankings, plus punishment spankings, and off they go.  They have their ups and downs, as normal people would, but there never seem to be any real issues with consistency, because they both wanted this, and they both worked hard to put it in place in their marriages/relationships.

Group number two sometimes gets off to a bit of a rocky start, but once the couple gets going, they go great guns.  The husband has introduced the dynamic, he more or less knows what is expected, he sorts out their rituals, rules, spankings and implements, and despite various little snarls and hitches, and a bit of back-tracking from time to time, they seem to do pretty well for themselves as the husbands do their best to be consistent.  The only slight snag I can deduce, is that there are a few wives who actively dislike being spanked and are not really what one would call spankos.  Perhaps this is mostly because they mainly see the maintenance/reaffirmation/disciplinary/punishment side of a spanking, and they weren't the ones who wanted to do it in the first place - just the ones who agreed it was necessary in their marriages/relationships.

Then we have the final group.  This is the group where the wives brought this to their husbands. Ha!  You just cannot imagine how long it took me to open my mouth and whisper the little words "I want you to spank me!" to Dan.  He nearly had apoplexy on the spot.  He still has to pinch himself in order to convince himself that he is actually laying into my bottom in order to fulfil my request and that our marriage is not only doing well, but flourishing beyond anything ever hoped for.  But consistency?  Oh brother!  

Some couples are lucky enough to fall into consistency within the first three to four months. Some within six to eight months.  Usually by a year most couples have developed certain rituals, a few rules may have been set up, implements and spanking positions organised and daily, weekly or even monthly discussions have made communication easier and more carefree. Ha!

Then there are The Starsongs.

Half the time I swear the left hand doesn't know what the right had is doing.  But this is someone who mentioned "not being serious" the other week and ended up having a nude discussion for the best part of an hour before being back to the starting blocks to be spanked all over again.

So we had a discussion about consistency.  It wasn't a brilliant, earth-shattering discussion.  It did have Dan telling me that he thought I had somehow "out-manoeuvred" him, and my poor bottom bears the brunt of what he thought of that. But I did manage to explain that whilst I thought we had started off brilliantly right back at the start, we seem to have gone somewhat "off piste" as far as consistency is concerned, and that much of our spanking these days is of the type that could well become the new Olympic sport!  eg I have developed the most imaginative front crawl you ever saw! 

Really I sometimes feel it is like the blind leading the blind.  We just go around in circles.  Dan thinks these circles are consistent, but I am not so sure.  The most consistent bit as far as he is concerned is that Thursday has become known as Spanky Doodle Day. His words - not read off Ana's blog - and he even whistles the tune and plays it on my butt nearly every week as a warm up!  

We also have top-up days, and very often the odd "Get over here, I'm going to warm your bottom for you" days.  But nothing is terribly consistent, and as I say, if I remind him too often, I certainly feel his annoyance and irritation the next time I am spanked for "whatever", be it for pleasure or reprimand.

This morning should've been more in the line of a stressbuster. We got into the consistency debate because Dan noticed the scales on the floor of our bedroom.  They were there because I have put on so much weight over Christmas that I feel like a fat pig and I now have to not only lose that extra weight, but also keep to my goal of losing another fourteen pounds before the end of June when we have a wedding to go to. So I took the opportunity of leaping on to the scales before I leapt over Dan's lap.

  

I shrieked with horror, and very foolishly, EXTREMELY, STUPIDLY FOOLISHLY when asked to fetch an implement, handed Dan the wooden salad server for my spanking. (We hadn't used it for some time as I favour our leather paddle, and Dan favours the bathbrush.) 

"You are going to have to help me with this!" I instructed him, my eyes glued to the scales whilst handing him the salad server. I then moaned and groaned to emphasise my discomfiture. 

"But I like you like this.  Okay, so your legs now look a bit on the thin side.  But your bottom isn't fat, and I certainly wouldn't want you to lose any weight off your boobs. (He used another word entirely.) It's just your stomach is a bit round.  Well, a lot round." He pinched a good deal more than an inch!  More like several inches!  

"I hate it.  I've got to lose it.  I can't go shopping for a new dress looking like this.  I can't believe I've put so much on in such a short time.  I was doing so well."

"Hmmm.  I did notice your jumpers or shirts tend to stand out a bit from the rest of you.  Like the overhang on a cliff."

I froze.

"What did you say?!"

"Well you know.  Nothing fits snugly around your waist any more.  Why don't you tuck your shirts in? Maybe it would help."

I snorted.  "So you think I am fat?  You are saying my clothes don't fit?"

"No I never said that.  Don't put words into my mouth.  I told you, I like you the way you are."

I drew myself up and glared at him.

"All right.  The weight comes off.  You can bloody well help me to lose it.  I will try to lose some each week, and you can spank me so many times for each pound I have to lose, and if I don't lose any weight one week, or put it on, you can spank me more.  Maybe that way I will lose the blessed weight."

So okay, I did have Dan's arm up his back a little bit, but I informed him that I thought it would be within his role to look after me and keep me safe.  (Snigger )

There followed an extremely intense ten minutes of discussion whilst Dan did mental calculations and came to various conclusions about how many spanks per pound he should give me.  It was further agreed that the spanks would be hard and given with the salad server in order that the weight be lost as quickly as possible.  (This is where I have to admit to the world that I need to lose a total of eighteen pounds!  I know - horrible!)  First he decided on ten pounds per pound of weight, but decided that 180 spanks with the salad server would do me in.  (He was right!)  So he went down to seven.  126 also seemed rather excessive.  So we ended up at four spanks per pound and that still worked out at 72.  Horrors!  Suddenly the idea didn't seem so wonderful, and why oh why the salad server?!  

He brandished it triumphantly whilst I got into position.  I took rather more time than usual, and strangely didn't regard my stress release spanking with the enthusiasm I had earlier on.  When he put his right leg over mine I knew he meant business.

He gave me my anti-stress spanking entirely with his hand.  It was harder than usual and not quite as I had envisaged.  After fifty or so he remarked that his hand hurt, but I wasn't prepared for the explosion of pain that crashed over my poor bottom as he replaced his hand with the salad server.  And the blessed man chose this time to discuss my weight loss solution with me and to explain exactly how this was all going to work!

This is a note to all "newbies" or ones among you unsure about the sagacity of using a less-frequented implement, known to impart extreme pain and discomfort, simply as a reminder not to eat so much and to eat more healthily, in other words, as a weight loss tool.  DON'T UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!

It was unbearable.  I was held in a clamp.  I thought at one stage I would either throw myself on the floor in a heap, or punch poor Dan in the nose.  Way before 72 spanks I was promising the Earth and all that is in it if he would stop.  Dan not only kept going, but he told me it was for my own good and that he was going to not only ensure I lost the weight, but that the salad server was used every week to strengthen my resolve.  He asked me questions.  He made me promise to give up chocolates, cake, pastries and buns.  He felt that alcohol should be limited to one glass only - with my Sunday lunch - and that I should up my intake of mineral water, and eat more fresh fruit and vegetables.  

To think that it was only in my last post I discussed "lecturing".  I can hardly wait to see what he does with "consistency"!

It is evening and I am still sore. I have spoon-shaped bruises on my SIT SPOTS!

This never happens to me.  I boast about it.  This is me with the "rhino hide"!  I have a smooth bottom and I never bruise!

When I eventually levered my poor, hot, well-peppered bottom up from my husband's lap, I threw that f-----g salad server the length of our bedroom. 

Dan was shocked.  "Did you just throw that?" he asked.  

"Yes I did," I snarled.  "I hate it.  I had forgotten entirely how lethal it could be.  I aim to lose this weight very quickly and keep it off!"

"Ha!" he replied.