Booby Traps!

This post doesn't have the slightest thing to do with spanking, but the clue is in the title.

I was reading Sarah's post (Clear as Mud) that she wrote whilst I was away on holiday. It got me thinking.

Ladies - what do you wear to keep your cherished possessions looking perky?

I am a bit of a bra collector myself. I dare not tell anybody the real number of knickers I possess, but I can reveal that my bra collection isn't far short of it. The snag is that as soon as I discover a beautiful, sexy and comfortable bra, they discontinue the line! 

It has got to the stage where if I find a bra that ticks all the boxes, I immediately rush out and buy several in different materials/colours while they are still available. It is so bad that I often have to sneak them into the house. Dan seems to think I can exist with just three: one to wear, one spare and one in the wash. Ha! What do men know?!

I am neither large nor small. My size must, however, be quite popular because I can rarely find a bra I like that fits me. They all seem to be snapped up like freshly baked cakes!

Just so you know (I am not at all shy) my size is 38C cup. I was once lulled into one of those Parisian-style lingerie shops that measure you and then sell you their most expensive item; they tried to tell me I was a 38DD - ha!!! It was so uncomfortable, and far too large. My boobs just slopped around and the thing nearly ended up under my left ear! I've never been back.

I always wear bras with bones. This is sometimes embarrassing going through airports as I am always searched, and the person doing the searching feels up my boobs and looks at me accusingly. One of these days I am going to strangle them with my bra!

I need the bones otherwise my boobs end up under my armpits. Why I should have boobs that desire to go off in opposing directions, I don't know. But there it is. Dan says that when I am putting on my bra I look as if I am trying to herd up cattle! Humph!

I also have, what Dan refers to, as Continental Nipples. 

You can use your imagination here, and they swell when I am cold, to the size of Chapel hat pegs (as we say in England). 

This means that if I wear anything even vaguely see-through, it is at my peril. 

This brings to mind a very memorable occasion when I was much younger. I forgot to put on a bra, went out shopping in our local town, and arrived home having stopped by to visit with a friend on the way. 

Dan took one look at me when he saw me and nearly had a fit. I wondered what he was getting so wound up about until he forcibly stood me in front of our bedroom mirror. My goodness.

The dress was close fitting pale lawn cotton, and practically see through. I was wearing a half-slip so nothing showed from the waist down, but from the waist up it was a different story completely. It took me several years to ask my friend why she hadn't said anything. She simply said she hadn't liked to as she knew I was just returning from town and she didn't know how to broach the subject.

I love comfortable bras more than anything. These vest-like garments with shelves are just plain awful. The shelves always move upwards and cut me in half the wrong way. I think men must've invented them.

I love satin bras, and also silk. I love pure cotton bras when it is hot. I love lacy bras, and bras with pretty straps that you can flaunt. I even have a bra that describes itself "like wearing a duvet". 

It has a padded sort of ledge that my boobs can nestle into!

I have bras for just about every occasion. 

Full bras, half bras, balcony bras, strapless bras, even a sexy Spanx-type garment (in black with gold lace sides) and with a very challenging (to get into) top half that you can wear both with or without straps.

I very rarely wear bras that match my knickers. I tend to pick out a colour in the knickers, and match the bra to the colour. After all, I sometimes wear, for example, a red top with a red bra underneath, and a white skirt with white or flesh-coloured knickers. 

About once a year I have to "de-clutter" my lingerie drawer. 

It nearly kills me. I have to recline with a very stiff gin after it! 

It is not something one can seek help with. Sigh.

By the way, did you know that over here we have certain charities that send "used bras in good condition" to Africa. 

I think at times that half the female population over there must be wearing my cast-off brassieres! But better than consigning them to the bin. I much prefer the thought that someone, somewhere is enjoying my Ted Bakers, La Perlas, Floozies, Triumphs and even my good old everyday Marks and Spencers!

Just imagine what it must have been like in the days before bras! 

"Cinch me into my stays would you, darling?!"

March = Question Time

The days are warming up, March is here, and Easter is only a few weeks away. What happens to time? It seems only a week or so ago it was Christmas?

March = Question Time here in Blogland.

It means that you all have the opportunity to ask me questions, either vanilla or pertaining to TTWD. I will try my best to answer them honestly. 

I always do my best to comment on posts I read, and in turn to answer comments on my posts. Sometimes it is difficult to do this immediately as life gets in the way, but I remember how thrilled I was to get comments when I first started to post, and how avidly I looked to see whether anyone had answered my comments on their posts. It helped me to get to know the people, and many of them are now firm friends.

You can direct your questions to either me or Dan, and I will try to ensure his answers are sensible ones. Please be aware that we are a couple with a great sense of humour, but we will also be happy to offer an opinion or point of view, if you so wish.

Serenity, Peace and Harmony

Spring is on its way. The signs are everywhere. We have some beautiful snowdrops and tiny pink cyclamen under the trees in our garden.

We got back from our vacation last Monday after a good flight with the jet stream behind us. A whole hour early. It made a big difference as I am not one to be able to sleep on an aeroplane, and I get very wriggly after just a few hours.

We have returned to "March coming in like a lion".

"March brings breezes loud and shrill to stir the dancing daffodil".

The daffodils are not out yet and the breezes are more like miniature hurricanes! Watching the birds being blown across the sky is quite amusing.

Just a couple of days before we went on holiday we had some excellent news. Dan had the results of his MRI scan and was informed that he is completely clear of cancer following his High Frequency Ultrasound treatment last March. He will still need bi-annual blood tests and a yearly MRI scan, but we are happy with that. 

I just want to thank all of your who sent us prayers and support during the last couple of years. It is proof that the power of prayer is an amazing force. 

The stress just lifted from his shoulders, and also from mine. It was the best news ever and we were able to go away and really feel justified in enjoying ourselves. Talk about a 'Happy Dance'!

The morning before we were due to travel down to the airport, Dan pulled me over his lap for a "reminder and reinforcement" spanking. He could see that I was beginning to "bubble up" and his plan was to settle me and calm me down, as he knew it would be nigh impossible for any spanking to take place whilst away due to the thin walls between cabins on our cruise ship. Even love-making can be a challenge as I have a tendency for being noisy and energetic. Oh well.

Dan used two implements, our beloved Rose paddle and my hated little nipper. It was quite a hard spanking and when I happily thought it was finished a couple of times, it resumed even harder. 

I had a jolly good cry, and then to quote Katie "Some mighty fine loving followed."

It must seem strange to read how a spanking like this can result in such close and loving feelings towards each other, and how much it lifted my mood and helped me to remain calm whilst packing and travelling to our destination. But I can heartily recommend it.

Not only was I calm for the journey, but I remained calm and in a good frame of mind for our entire holiday. Only once did Dan need to raise his eyebrows and give me one "Settle down - now!" spank, and I quietened and became my usual self. Really I cannot remember such a peaceful and enjoyable holiday.

We did, however, have a funny "instance" whilst in a market in St Lucia. 

It was a wonderful place with fruit and vegetables lined up with toothpaste, cooking oil, handmade goods and clothing. A real eclectic mix.

I was happily looking at some beautifully made wooden salad servers and bowls, quite innocently, when Dan held something up to show me. 

I looked happily at him and giggled, not quite comprehending at first. 

"I should think this will hurt" he said to me conversationally, and went on to discuss aerodynamics. 

The stallholder looked at Dan knowingly and I almost died of embarrassment.

It is a slightly bigger edition of our Little Nipper, but rounded and it has "holes".

Despite my embarrassment a purchase was made. 

So this is our new implement:

It is made out of avocado wood and is highly polished. It is no thicker than the Little Nipper but Dan is quite correct - it has, shall we say, certain aerodynamic properties. LOL! Not!!

By the time we arrived home I had forgotten all about it. It had been packed in Dan's suitcase, so when I unpacked my clothes I didn't give it a thought.

No so Dan.

Having had my lovely "in bed" cup of coffee, on our very first morning back, Dan sat up in bed, rather meaningfully, and said "Right, time to get back to normal."

And he brandished what will be henceforth known as "The Big Nipper" at me. (He had detoured whilst getting the coffee and then concealed it craftily under his pillows.)

I went over his lap, not at all reluctantly. I know better now.

"Wow, this thing really works" Dan informed me.

"You don't need to tell me that" I looked sideways, trying to crane my neck in order to watch the action. I didn't really need to watch - I could feel!

"It gets you red ever so quickly" he added.

"Well thank you for that".

The happy compliance and giggles didn't last for long. This implement does everything it is fabled to do, and more. I found it quite difficult not to kick.

"I am told that it is best to relax and give in to it" I remarked to Dan. "But owww!! how I am meant to do that I just don't know!"

Luckily Dan heard me beginning to squeak a bit, and giving me "one for the road" he stopped. My eyes were just at the pre-brimming over point. My bottom felt glowing all over. Dan had really enjoyed himself.

He gave me the usual evil grin. "That should keep you compliant for a bit."

So, dear friends, I have decided that this is one implement which is not going to see the light of day except when the moon is blue. 

If it hurts as much as this with just smallish wrist flicks, how would it be if Dan felt I had overstepped the line? It is something I am not at all willing to find out.

We have grown a lot, Dan and I in this new life of ours, and long may the serenity, peace and harmony continue.

PS - I am always willing to direct other enterprising husbands to the little stall where the Big Nipper was purchased!  

Chronicles of Starsong Land - Part IV

Do you have a best friend?

I have a couple of them.

One of them lives a long way away from us, but we have been friends all our lives, since around the age of two when we played in the same sandpit together. We both attended the same 'senior school', which was a convent. 

We were often taken as sisters by the younger girls who did not know us. We both met our husbands at the tender age of sixteen, except that my friend was married by the age of twenty, and I didn't marry until five years after that. We are both still wonderfully, happily married to the same men, and our husbands are great friends too.

The other friend lives a short distance across the fields from me, and we have known each other for over thirty years. 

We see each other about once a week, though we do not fret if we go a week or two without seeing each other - lives are busy and events get in the way. Her middle son and our son are best friends, and her son is to be our son's best man when he marries next year. This friend was married a couple of years earlier than us and is still wonderfully and happily married. Our husbands are great friends as well.

These friends are both very different from me in temperament. They are both pretty well laid back, and only very rarely get their feathers ruffled or their knickers in a twist. Whereas I am like a glowing ember that springs into flame on a regular basis. 

Thankfully less often now than before, but which nevertheless needs repeatedly dampening down for my own good.

My friends and I share many likes and dislikes. We have similar hobbies.  The first friend used to ride with me every weekend during our younger days, whilst my friend from across the fields and I rode our horses together for about twenty years, and encouraged our children to ride, although only our daughters enjoyed it. Our sons preferred tractors and other interesting machinery.

When I am with either of my friends, I never need that fire dampening down. In fact, I can say, hand on heart, that I have never fallen out with them, nor had an argument or bad word in all the years we have known each other. 

Does this mean we agree with everything we say to each other? Hell, no! But we agree to disagree. Hence there is never any disharmony between us. 

We are always there for each other, to listen, discuss and give opinions. Always there through joy and sorrow, to celebrate and support. Always there during good times and bad.

Why, therefore, is it so difficult to have this type of calm and harmonious relationship with one's nearest and dearest, namely one's husband?

I wonder? Is it because we love too much?

When you are with another person 24/7 you notice every little deviation from the path you are walking together. In fact, that path is fraught with obstacles lying in wait to trip you up and cause disharmony.

You are two entirely different people, sometimes having very little in common apart from the fact that you love each other, and little do you realise when you say the words "I will" what those words mean.

Sometimes when I look back at this long and winding journey through life Dan and I have taken, it knocks me sideways how fast the years have flown. 

Dan and I had a very long engagement. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone as it was far too long - five years - but it was most definitely our boot camp. It was during that time we learned to stop being self-obsessed individuals and to become a loving and tolerant couple, showing concern, consideration, and above all learning to cherish each other. 

If I had to choose another word for love it would be cherish.

Our journey into TTWD has not been an easy one.

Instead of a journey the length of Africa, it has turned into a journey that circumnavigates the globe ten times at least.

We thought we knew each other inside out. We didn't. We are still on a voyage of discovery - enthralling and exciting.

A week after my last spanking, I got another significant spanking.

In fact, to me, it was more significant than the previous one.

We have a great many stresses in our lives at the moment, and I have done nothing but moan about them all till you must be running for the hills.

Dan went for an MRI to check whether his cancers are keeping stable, or whether they have started to grow again. I was unable to go with him, as I was in bed with a bad chill. But it was in the week leading up to this MRI that my embers became a blaze to contend with.

Dan was, understandably, getting anxious and worked up about his forthcoming visit to the London hospital where he is on a cancer trial.

He was being a BEAR. In every way.

Nothing I said or did suited him. He was black to my white till he had me seething. 

It culminated with him going off on a short business trip and staying away for two nights. The first night because he had to be with his client by 9 in the morning and it was too far to travel, and the second night because he finished late and knew he would be too tired to drive all the way home.

The day he set off to drive up north was a Sunday. He asked me to have lunch ready so that he could leave by 2pm and not have to travel in the dark.

Everything went wrong that morning. He needed to get some last minute things done on the computer and the internet went peculiar; he couldn't find a favourite shirt; our son asked him for some help with some an accounting issue and got growled at; he found a bill that should have been paid and had been forgotten; my car battery went dead and the tyres on one side were nearly flat (slow leaks) requiring pumping up. The list was endless. All I could hear was Dan swearing, and see blue air everywhere.

In the end he decided to not bother with lunch, and to set off even earlier. He was clanging around and grumbling and swearing right up till he left.

And then he went off without saying goodbye to me.

For me, this is a major thing.

We always say goodbye and give each other a quick kiss, and when we meet up again we always kiss each other 'Hello". 

What a morning. I just sat and wept. "Who'd be married?" I thought.

That evening he phoned to say he was safely where he should be, and he promised to ring the next day. He sounded in a better mood, and he did ring back briefly the next evening after work saying that he would see me early afternoon the next day but would call me before he set out.

He didn't.

No matter. I was keeping one eye on the clock and was really looking forward to him coming home.

When we were apart a great deal in the past, it didn't seem to matter. I took over the reins quite capably, and there were rarely any problems. 

Now it does matter. I hate it when we are apart. I get downright unsettled.

The clock ticked round and round and suddenly it was 3.30pm and still no Dan, and no phone call.

About that time I spoke to Minelle on the phone.

"I'm not having a good week with Dan" I told her. We are rubbing each other the wrong way all the time. I may even decide to fly out and stay with you for a bit."

Her Scotsman was having a tantrum over something in the background. 

She suggested that we maybe ought to go off on a short holiday together and leave our men to it.

This is marriage. This is what it is all about. Ups and downs. Nothing worth having is ever easily come by. Don't let anyone ever tell you different.

When 5pm came I heard the car coming up the gravel drive. I was in the sitting room sipping a large latte and I had almost worn a track in the carpet pacing up and down. And yes, I had tried to phone him and his stupid phone kept going to Voicemail!

He nonchalantly walked in and behaved as if nothing was wrong and the world was rosy. 

I was nearly in tears. I could've happily strangled him.

You would have thought that I would've got at least a hug that night in bed. 

No.

He came to bed late, then proceeded to drop asleep and snore his head off. By 2.30am I lost it. I switched on the light, got up, grabbed my bedside glass of water, my hot water bottle, my pillow and the clock, and strode angrily down the passageway to the spare room slamming doors as I went.

Bloody, bloody man! Bloody, bloody snoring! Bloody, bloody, bloody.....!!!

The next day was the day we look after our grandbaby all day, and pick the older one up from his little school. So busy, busy, busy.

Dan continued to be a bear when he wasn't being a loving grandad.

My flames continued to burn, wildly and out of control.

Even our son was getting fed up with his father's attitude.

Friday morning we had a joint dental appointment and had to be up quite early and off to our nearest large town. The afternoon sped by and then it was Saturday.

Hmmmm......

We were still at odds with each other. 

I went and fetched our morning drinks, standing them by our sides of the bed and drew back the curtains on both windows. Dan moaned and turned over, pulling the duvet up to his eyebrows.

The phone went. It was the little man who comes on a Saturday to help with general tasks, especially the garden. He has been coming for donkey's years and started out by washing our cars and just sort of progressed. He is hilarious. Salt of the earth. We just couldn't do without him.

He was unable to come.  Great.

I put down the phone and Dan was sitting up drinking slurping his tea. I gave him the news.

"Never mind. We can take things easy for a change."

Ha!

I sat stiffly and seethingly against the headboard and sipped my coffee, watching the wind in the pines outside our window.

When I had finished I snuggled down again for a few more precious minutes.

After a while, Dan joined me.

He reached out to stroke my bottom. He hadn't done that in over a week, and I was very pissed off with him and flinched away.

"So that's how it's going to be, is it?" he asked me.

"Too right" I snorted. Then I went on to explain exactly how I felt. Communication, right? No use starting an argument before he knew what he was meant to be arguing about.

I started with him not stroking my bottom when he came to bed, went on to him having a dicky fit before driving off up north, and finished with him not contacting me to let me know if he was in the land of the living or not, and just coming home when he felt like it.

I had reached that singular stage where you simply no longer care whether what you say sounds respectful or not.

"I think you better fetch an implement" he told me gravely.

The tears started running quietly down my cheeks as I got up and went across to our chest of drawers. I am one of these unfortunate people whose conscience goes into overdrive the minute unkind words leave my mouth.

"Bring the paddle" he said.

I got the leather paddle from the drawer and silently returned to bed. 

I knew I was about to get another whaler of a spanking. I deserved it. I would never speak to my friends like I had just spoken to my husband. I felt awful.

Dan's mouth was a tight line. He helped me across his lap and pulled up my nightie around my waist. The sub-arctic temperature in our bedroom hit my skin like like an icy blast. How they went knickerless years ago beats me. They were surely made of sturdier stuff than we are today. Or maybe more of them died of pneumonia than is public knowledge.

His left hand rested upon my lower back and his right hand rested on my bottom. I pushed my face into the duvet and gritted my teeth waiting for the warm-up. Or perhaps he felt I didn't deserve a warm-up.

But nothing happened.

Instead, Dan rubbed and squeezed my bottom very gently before starting to talk.

He apologised to me completely and unreservedly for being a Bear. 

He had known how he was acting, yet he couldn't seem to stop himself. He had known he was hurting the one who loved him and cared for him the best, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He had known on that Sunday that he was throwing a tantrum a two year old could've been proud of, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. 

All the time he kept stroking my bottom. Eventually, after accepting his apologies, and apologising myself for my bad attitude, and explaining how sad and unloved and neglected I had felt, I asked him to spank me.

The spanking that followed was probably the best, longest, sexiest and most satisfying spanking I have ever had. So was the loving that followed afterwards.

I think the best word would be tender. He was so tender towards me that I never wanted it to stop. 

I don't know how much longer we would've lay there entwined if the phone hadn't rang with his mother on the other end saying she was going to drop in for a coffee on her way back from town.

That got us on the move. We felt like naughty teenagers who'd been caught making out. Well, at least part of it was true. But at 11 o'clock on a Saturday morning? Hmmm.....

The very most significant thing to come out of this was that Dan apologised.

So often this part of DD or TTWD is glossed over. The man cannot possibly be wrong; or if he is, you get spanked anyway and tough, this was what you agreed in the first place.

No.

There are two people in a marriage. Both of them can be wrong, not just one of them. The strength of love and maturity is in admitting when you are wrong, and saying 'Sorry'. 

So I had my spanking, and whatever went before it was laid to rest as with any other spanking. 

The road once again stretches out before us.

Whatever lies along it we will meet together.

(Just to let you know - we go to London for the MRI results on 4th February.)  

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."

"Oh?"

"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."

"Are you?"

I began to feel testy. "Yes, I think I am. I don't hound you or nag the way I used to."

"No?"

"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.

"Caught you!"

"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."

(As if!!!)

"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.

Then, SWAT!

"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. 

SWAT!

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."

What the....?

"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!!!"

"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.