As I read, I kept giving Dan furtive glances. I suppose I was trying to imagine him in the role of Christian. I can remember licking my lips and realising that I bite my bottom lip just like Ana. Apparently, according to Dan, it is something I have done all my life.
I think I was wondering how it could be that there was this alternative lifestyle that no-one had ever told me about. A lifestyle so far removed from what we had, that it sent my senses reeling.
It wasn't the sex. Okay, Dan doesn't suspend me from the ceiling, or tie me to the four corners of the bed. But we have pretty hot sex,
and we always have had, in some shape or form. We still laugh with a certain couple, who we have known forever - I grew up with her, lived across the fields from her, rode horses with her - and we are Godparents to each other's children. We used to have this joke, and still do, about leaping off wardrobes, or sliding down banisters. Silly, huh, at our ages?
And let me remind you, Christian Grey and folk like him didn't invent such sex. They only brought it to the notice of the public. Or at least, P L James did.
But the spanking part. I thought the only available spanking in such circles was performed by female dommes dressed in leather and wielding whips.
Silly me. If only I had known earlier. After all, you do need a certain amount of flexibility for certain things, and sadly, as you grow older, your flexibility diminishes somewhat.
Spanking for us, now that I am happily in the know about it, and have seen fit to ensure that Dan is also in the know, has made a difference to our lives that I never foresaw.
The effects have been like ripples spreading out from a stone cast into a pool. They go on and on, and instead of lessening, they grow in strength, forging a bond between us we never knew would exist.
It's not all been a walk in the park. The going has been tough from time to time, and no doubt we will continue to have those moments when nothing goes right, and spanking is pushed to one side because neither of us has the time or the inclination. But the fact is this, we cannot do without it, and if this inadvertently happens, we both suffer withdrawal symptoms, and it is such a relief to return to what has become our normal way of life.
What we hadn't anticipated were the side effects of the spanking lifestyle. I suppose all I could think about in the beginning were questions like How often? How hard? When? and Where? Should I enjoy it? Should I hate it? Should Dan enjoy it? Ha!
Initially it was very difficult not to guide; to direct; to control. I expected Dan to understand all the intricate detail, regardless of the fact that I was the one who had done all the reading, all the research. Suddenly poor Dan was meant to be Superman, Flash Gordon and every other superhero you can think of, rolled into one.
Well. He is not. He never will be. And for anyone expecting their husband to change into one of these figments of the imagination, they will be very disappointed. I soon learned that life, and spanking, do not supply instant superheroes.
But not to fear. It is better than that.
Instead, we have the bonus of the side effects. And wow!
I suppose this is where I could do a quick SWOT analysis. Or I could try to divide them into benefits and disadvantages. But I would not know where to begin. Each day brings these side effects, and they constantly alter and evolve.
Everyone who looks at, and considers, the side effects of the spanking lifestyle will have different ways of looking at them, and different reactions. All I can do is give some examples, and how Dan and I react to them.
There are the obvious side effects like pain and reaction to pain, (such as kicking your husband in the jaw, or as in one case I seem to remember, a wife who bit her husband in the leg).
I am a wimp, I freely admit. Unless I get a steady build up (warm up) to pain, I squeal loudly and you would think, if you happened to be passing our bedroom window, that a murder was being committed. Yet some of our fun spankings have resulted in broken implements. So I leave you to draw your own conclusions from that.
Hard spanking is something I can take or leave.
In the disciplinary sense, I can happily leave it. I am never allowed to do so, and it is something I do not enjoy. Luckily we rarely need to venture into this territory any more. The remedy has worked!
So that brings me on to crying. It is a subject people often skirt around, but I like to meet these challenges head on. I may address it in another post, as it has been a while since I remember reading much about tears. I personally think a good cry is good for you. Dan will happily tell me to let it all out. He used to be terrified when I would burst into loud wails and uncontrollable sobs. But now he knows it is not only my reaction to being paddled for something I am ashamed of, but also it acts as a release valve for my pent up stress and emotions. (I sometimes cry because it hurts too!)
Dan much prefers giving me hard good girl spankings,
instead of having to redden my butt to remind me to check my smart mouth. Nevertheless, on the occasions when I do have a good cry, it is recognised as part of the process, and nothing to feel concerned about.
Spanking gives us both a renewed vitality.
The side effects we never knew about when we started out, are that we eat better, have better sex, and sleep better when a significant spanking, of any variety, has taken place. It brings serenity and harmony, it relieves stress, it causes us to care more about each other in so many ways, even when we are apart. It's become symbiotic.
The latest side effect or offshoot in the Starsong household is that Dan has started giving me four or five harder spanks on the rear end if he feels my snarky side is gaining the upper hand. Particularly when in the kitchen. He delights in backing me into a corner and walloping me over my jeans sufficient to get an apology and a squeak. (You should hear the squeak - it's a sound to behold!) I tell him that one day someone is going to be in the process of coming to our backdoor and then he will be caught red-handed. Literally.
For those of you who are new to this, and may be struggling a little with letting go. Just do it. Let the cards fall where they may. You won't be sorry. We're not.