Monday, 19 January 2015
Chronicles of Starsong Land - Part III
It's interesting how different, yet how similar many of our men are.
It doesn't matter how many thoughts I have on the matter, Dan sticks in his toes and firmly resists being advised on exactly how an HOH should act.
He is firmly fixed on going his own way, and nothing I read out to him, or suggest to him influences his way of thinking.
He is not impulsive. Sometimes I long for him to be impulsive, but he continues to resist. Yet whenever I am confident about a set factor in our version of TTWD, he moves the goalposts.
A case in fact, and I refer you here to Meredith from 'A New Twist...' (who started it all) is the opening of the can of worms.
Happily discussing the power ratio in our household, I never dreamed it was going to get me spanked the way it did.
I always assumed (never assume - it makes an ass out of u and me! Truly!) that we were 51% and 49%, the lower number being me. We have always been a partnership, and there has been no reason to change it - it works for us.
Not so apparently.
I leaned in around the doorway whilst Dan was engaged in editing a work document,
and happily expounded on my thoughts re our lives together since commencing TTWD.
"...so I like to think of us as 51% and 49%", I told him.
I failed to see the warning signs.
The tensed shoulders, the slight lifting of an eyebrow, the slow intake of breath before he swivelled his chair around to face me.
"Oh I don't think so."
"What do you mean you don't think so? We always discuss everything. You always make the end decision."
"Is that what you think?"
"Yes." My heart was beginning to hammer a little uncomfortably. This wasn't feeling right.
"I would have thought it a lot different."
"Well, sometimes it seems about 60:40, and the 40 refers to me."
I felt quite taken aback.
"Oh, come on. You're joking. I'm really good these days."
I began to feel testy. "Yes, I think I am. I don't hound you or nag the way I used to."
"No I don't." Dan was still sitting regarding me with narrowed eyes.
"So give me an example, then. I bet you can't."
Wrong thing to say. Very wrong.
"All right, since you asked me. What about the TV controls?"
"What about them?"
"I'm sick of the way you just barge in and take over."
"Excuse me. I do not."
"Oh yes you do. You sit at that computer emailing with your friends. Then when you've finished, you wander into the lounge, pick up the paper and scan it, and then swoop down on the TV controls and change the channel. Without a bye or leave. It doesn't matter that I am half way through a programme. You couldn't care less."
"Dan, how can you say that? I never change the channel unless you are asleep. You sit there with the control tightly clasped in your little mitt and snore your head off."
"Ami, you always change the channel. You never ask. You don't care whether I am asleep or not. If it doesn't suit you, you refuse to watch it."
"Well I am certain I don't. You've got it very wrong. How can I when you always have the bloody controls?"
I flounced off to sort out the laundry. I was on my high horse and not happy the way the conversation was going. Best to busy myself than to have an all-out row.
The day drifted past full of household chores, phone calls and the odd caller, like my friend from across the fields who called frothing at the mouth and bemoaning the fact that she just needed a short break away from her husband before he drove her up the wall. Just an hour to herself. Humph! (She is very funny - this happens on a six monthly basis. Her husband is definitely the dominant partner, but every now and then she rebels. They've been married coming up for 40 years and we've been friends for 32 of those. But since they both retired she says he does have the tendency to get under her feet. Hmmm. I'll reserve comment.)
By evening I had forgotten the conversation between Dan and I. After clearing away the supper things, and stacking the dishwasher, I gave the kitchen a perfunctory tidy up and sat at the computer to check my emails. I answered the couple that were there, and then closed down the computer and decided to join Dan in the lounge.
As usual he was asleep, making soft little snoring noises.
The TV was playing to itself, a programme about car restoration.
I glanced at the TV programme guide and saw that there was a programme on about 'Antiques in the Attic'. It didn't even occur to me what I was doing. I just strode quietly across the room, bent over and gently tried to remove the TV control from Dan's left hand.
Strangely I had trouble prising his fingers off it.
After trying fruitlessly for a while I decided that I had to use a little more strength.
I looked up and nearly leapt out of my skin.
Dan was regarding me through narrowed eyes that were gleaming quite unnervingly.
I backed away rapidly.
"But you were asleep. You were snoring."
"Is that what you thought?"
Dan's eyes were still narrowed but now he was sitting up.
Remembering, suddenly, our conversation from the morning, I wisely kept quiet.
"You were bloody well going to change the channel."
"But only because I thought you were asleep."
"I happened to be resting my right eye."
"I was really enjoying how they repaired the engine on that old E-type." The eye wasn't resting now. It was glaring at me with full strength.
"Go and sit down. You can read the paper, read your Kindle, do the crossword. But you are NOT changing the channel."
The better part of valour had me obeying, very quietly indeed. This was not something I was going to push.
I got out my quilting and sat sewing,
and watching TV reasonably companionably with Dan, till bedtime.
Fast forward to the morning.
Dan woke me by stroking my bottom.
I lay curled into him. I was warm as toast, which was more than you could say for the temperature in the bedroom. There was a severe frost outside. A gleaming, sparkly white world. Brrrr!
However, I wasn't too tired to react and arched my back and purred. I could feel Dan felt amorous and I was quite happy to oblige.
"I think it's time you had a spanking, don't you?"
"Hmmm." I stretched languorously. What a nice start to the day, I was thinking.
"Go get an implement." (I am so fed up he always gives me this order. To begin with it was fun - now not. Other men all seem to fetch the implements themselves. Why is this?)
Still, I giggle as I ask him to choose. Not that we have acres of implements to choose from. Not that it bothers me - the few we have are quite sufficient to turn white to cherry red.
"Bring the Little Nipper, since you ask."
Suddenly I was not so eager. I can go with the Rose paddle even when used for discipline, but I hate the Little Nipper with a vengeance. It looks completely harmless, but it always feels like it's burning my layers of skin off my bottom on an individual basis. It is pure evil and Dan loves it because it is so lightweight and easy to brandish.
Dan propped himself up against the headboard and beckoned for me to lay myself over his lap. He anchored me down with his right leg, which is a usual occurrence to keep me from inadvertently kicking and knocking his teeth out.
Then he was wrestling with my nightie. I thought he was hitching it up around my waist. But no, he wanted it completely off. I shivered. Whether from the cold or the anticipation, I am not sure.
"You won't be cold for long" I was informed. (Wonder if Abby is reading this? LOL!)
There were various pointers re this spanking that I either didn't see, or chose not to see. I still blithely thought it was going to be a pleasant, sexy, sharp little spanking and we could then progress on to better things.
Dan started out slowly, both rubbing my bottom and spanking with his hand. I relaxed into it enjoying the various sensations. Then I felt something very cold and I realised he was using some lube. My senses heightened and I began looking forward to better things even more.
But strangely, he began rubbing the lube into my cheeks, making them wet. I felt the cold air.
Good grief, that packed a sting and a half!
SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!
"Ouch - that's a bit stingy! Steady on!"
I wriggled trying to avoid the spatula. Dan wouldn't be deterred. He spanked away for some time. My ouches were getting louder. This was not what I had in mind.
"Ouch, Dan. This hurts!"
I was glaring into the duvet, and when he finally stopped I breathed such a sign of relief. Thank goodness for that, I thought.
I went to get up but his hand on my back pressed me back down.
"Oh no, I am only just getting started," I was informed.
The swats were falling thick and fast. I never know whether to try to relax or to clench my buttocks for all I am worth. I was trying to kick and in between I was curling my toes. My ouches were getting louder and one or two words of protest were creeping in.
Now Dan chose to return to the discussion of the night before.
"In future you will not take the controls and change the channel on the TV without asking me first."
"You do it too often. It is rude and disrespectful. You just wade in and ignore my preferences. How would you like me to do that to you?"
Dan was punctuating each few words with a hefty swat that had me squirming and yelling. My bottom felt ablaze.
I wondered how much I could stand, and at the same time my admiration for people who get spanked with thick wooden paddles increased 300%.
Talking about percentages...
"We are going to work on this one" I was informed. "Just be warned - if I catch you doing it again we will repeat this little exercise until you learn."
"Ye-ouch? Yes, ye-ouch indeed!"
He stopped and rubbed my poor sore cheeks. Such a relief. So nice. Why doesn't he rub my cheeks like this more often during a spanking? I thought to myself.
"You are NOT 49% in this household. You are NOT even 40% You are barely, at this minute in time, 39%!!" Oh?!
"You can let Meredith know just in case Jack feels he would like to make an adjustment to their power ratio as well."
"There's been too much attitude around here of late. Too many interruptions both to what I am saying and to what I am watching. I may not be impulsive, as you call it, but it doesn't mean I plan to ignore the situation. The end justifies the means. And it will be your end in the firing line."
Apparently he still had not finished, and he rattled of another twenty or so on my very chastened bottom. That final onslaught brought me to tears and reminded me that Dan had laid down the law.
Then I was gathered into his arms and at last we were on to better things.
This spanking was a reminder I hadn't anticipated, but which was long overdue. As much as I hate a more severe spanking when it is for disciplinary purposes, it clears the air, leads to better things, and makes me feel loved, cared for and cherished.
It seems that the opening of Meredith's Can of Worms proved a salutary lesson for the both of us.