There are words and then there are words.
For the past few days, Dan and I have had words. Or rather, I have been the one having the words and Dan has mostly remained silent and pondered them.
For those who live the DD/TTWD dynamic, this can be a very dangerous way of life. After all, don't we all scream at each other that communication is key to a good relationship. Well, "Ha!" is all I can say.
When this little old Alpha gets going, she most certainly gets going. And so does Dan, but he is the one holding the paddle.
Let us just go back a few days shall we?
Remember where I talked about snapping back occasionally and having to reconcile that with the fact that you might end up with a red, sore bottom?
I think there is a saying that mentions chickens coming home to roost.
For those of you who are interested in embarking on a spanking way of life, those who just like to read and imagine, and even for those of you who live this strange and kinky phenomenon, let me remind you that there are certain words and phrases that should never, ever, be uttered out loud during a pouty episode that incurs a spanking penalty, the lead up to the spanking itself, and most definitely not while the aforesaid spanking is taking place.
Some of these words are:
"I'm so tired of you watching tennis and golf all the time."
"I'm bored and fed up with being neglected."
"All you do is issue your orders."
"You can do it yourself."
"Next time you leave your socks on the floor for me to pick up, I will not be held responsible for my actions."
"So what are you going to do about it?!"
"You can stick that in your pipe and smoke it."
"You and who else?"
"I can't be bothered."
"I'm not in the mood."
"You just don't get it, do you?"
"I'm fine, thanks."
"Leave me alone."
"You can get you own bloody implement!"
"No, I won't...!"
"Why the fuck do you keep hitting the same spot!"
"Let me up!"
"Okay, that's enough now!"
Spread over several days you can imagine the timbre of the atmosphere in our household.
This morning Dan could stand it no longer. He took action, which involved my rear end getting a major roasting. I wasn't even over his lap at the time. I was merely lying in bed minding my own business and contemplating the next story in a series in a new book called "Confessions of a Spanking Author" (Great book! Now why wasn't I approached?!), when all of a sudden I was rudely rolled over and paddled like there was no tomorrow.
I seem to remember something about being instructed to go and get an implement, and my reply being one of the above snarky comments. But the resultant stamping across the bedroom, the slamming of the drawers, closely followed by Dan's shocking assault upon my lily-white bottom with a rapid and remorseless ascent and descent of a large hard implement, soon snapped me out of my pleasant reverie.
There was no warm up, and each time I thought I could breathe, albeit in gasps of hurt astonishment, the spanks not only started up again but came with renewed intensity.
Being flat out is a distinct disadvantage. Each time I tried to creep towards the edge of the bed on the pretext of throwing myself over and escaping, I was hauled back by a leg, and pinned back down.
He may not be spontaneous, but he knows exactly how he needs to spank in order for me to regain my happy, smiling, submissive self.
It was a bit like climbing a steep hill. The nearer you get to the top the harder the going gets. I was aware of Dan pulling my skin tight to extract every bit of ouchiness he could; instead of gently rubbing and soothing my hot flesh in between bouts of spanks, he kneaded it like bread dough;
he kept spanking on the same spot over and over - just where I sit!
I ended up in a dishevelled, hot, flustered, weeping mess. But once again, it was one of those moments when I would have unzipped his skin and climbed in with him if I could have. An extraordinary sense of calm and togetherness. A very happy place. Resolution.
So now I am sitting here, having a writing day. But you would laugh out loud if you saw me. I have placed a cushion, from the kitchen bench, on my typing seat to soften it. I am wearing a long, flowing summer skirt of a very soft material. And I am most definitely NOT wearing any knickers, and nor do I intend to for a very long time. If ever, in fact.
As I said at the beginning, there are words and then there are words.