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.
Usually I adore the run up to Christmas. But this year it was made harder by the fact that we have our house on the market and we were having to contend with showing people (with dirty shoes!) around. One woman had a peculiar look of dissatisfaction on her face which prompted me to say to her
"Don't you like beams?"
"I don't like them at all" she replied.
Now why on earth would you want to view a timber-framed property that started off its life in the late 1400s if you don't like beams?!!! Heaven help us!
(This isn't our house, BTW. But very similar.)
Dan picked up a second dose of viral pneumonia which had him coughing for weeks and weeks, and I got a bit of a sore throat and sniffles. But mainly it is looking after an ailing man that has a draining effect on me. LOL!
I had, fortunately, arranged to visit my good friend Jan in a nearby city. I was sooooo excited, and as you know, she has lost loads of weight and looked stunning.
She is full of humour and such a nice person to share a meal and go shopping with. My jaws ached by the time I was on my way home.
Now, what I didn't reveal was that Jan handed me a gift in a Christmassy little bag, with a giggle. I should've observed her body language more closely. The minx!
(Jan - I have to tell you that Dan really, really loved it!!)
We sat happily unwrapping presents on Christmas morning with our daughter, son-in-law and smallest grandson. Most of the 555 presents were for smallest, but Dan and I did get a few.
I am one of these people who love to watch other people opening presents, but tend to leave mine till later. However, we did open our children's gifts and they were lovely.
Then our daughter, who was doing the honours and foraging around under the tree, gravely handed me my gift from Jan. Ha!
Some second sight told me to tell her that I would open it later as this particular friend had a wicked sense of humour.
Was I glad I did!
I like it very much, Jan, and thank you for being so thoughtful. But let me warn you that I have a similar naughty sense of humour and know exactly what to get you next Christmas! Ha!
This is it everyone -
Jan had it especially made for me at a local pottery. Thank goodness I didn't open it in front of my daughter and son-in-law. Every suspicion they have about me being somewhat kinky would have been instantly confirmed.
As I write this it is sleeting yet again outside the windows.
Horrid cold, icy, yucky stuff!
It makes me think about what I wear to bed in this old and draughty house. If what I am about to impart to you makes you laugh, and think I am totally hopeless, well so be it.
When we first married, I wore sheer, sexy nighties, and nothing else.
The sheerer and sexier the better. Even my robes were sheer and sexy to match the nighties.
Then somehow, over the years, the sexiness went out of my nightwear, and I started to cover up more and more. I can remember how I owned and wore several Victorian style nightgowns made of wincyette that did right up to the neck and had long sleeves and went down to the floor.
They covered up every bit of me!
Eventually I relaxed into wearing a nightie resembling a thigh-length t-shirt.
But I still kept my knickers on. Dan and I had one terrific argument about me wearing knickers in bed. He said that he wanted access at all times, and I was not prepared to remove them. What would happen, I asked, if there was an emergency in the middle of the night?
Well, there was, once. Whilst we were staying in a hotel down near the M25. We were all herded out on the pavement at 4 in the morning. I was very glad indeed that I was wearing my knickers! Golly it was cold!
But then, when we started TTWD, I got up enough courage to ask Dan if there was anything he would like me to 'submit' to. After he had picked himself up off the floor and managed to stop laughing long enough to reply, he thought for a moment, and then said "Although our sex life has improved 300%, why do you still wear a nightie and knickers in bed? I would like you to sleep in the nude."
I was stunned. I just hadn't thought about it.
"I want to be able to caress you, kiss you and make love to you whenever I want, and I hate having to struggle to remove all your clothing."
"I might get cold."
"Then I shall make sure I keep you warm.
"Oh."
I found it quite difficult at first. It felt strange to feel the sheets and duvet directly on my skin. But Dan kept his word. I have never been cold. He slides right up behind me and spoons. He is one of these men who feel as hot as a furnace, and we always have to move apart before dropping off to sleep.
Just very occasionally do I wear a nightie and that is only on an extremely cold winter's night. (And bedsocks!)
But never knickers, and sometimes I just wear a t-shirt on the top half to keep my shoulders and chest warm. I do have a silly habit of sleeping with my arms out of bed, and they do sometimes get rather icy. Old houses like ours are not the warmest of places.
Also, I confide that in the winter we have a hot water bottle
which I make and take up with me. I get my side of the bed all nice and toasty, then I push it over to Dan's side ready for him. Old-fashioned, but very effective, and it doesn't use up electricity like electric blankets do! And if the night is extra cold, I spread a patchwork quilt on top of duvet and you can just about see the tops of our heads as we burrow down into the warmth.
Does anyone else wear anything mildly eccentric in bed, I wonder?
Sometimes something relatively innocent can lead to the type of waters that run deep and are full of currents.
This is the first part of a series of chronicles, mostly thoughts, incidents and snippets of everyday life in Starsong Land.
We both had various "bugs" over the Christmas period. I am not going into them. We are both better now. But I need to get everything into "context". It helps to explain our interactions. Moods up one day and down another. You know how it can go.
We sat (flumped would be the better word) one evening and the TV was an absolute disgrace. After moaning at length, I suggested to Dan that we watch a film neither of us had seen, but which I had recorded as one of my favourite actresses, Meryl Streep starred in it.
We both mistakenly thought it would be a comedy - funny and easy to watch. Not the case. But the strange thing was that it made quite an impression not only on me, but also on Dan, and we were still discussing it the next morning.
The film was Hope Springs. No doubt you have all heard of it and watched it. Dan and I are pretty hopeless with films. We rarely go to the cinema and prefer to watch them in the comfort of our home, often, as we usually do in the winter, with a roaring log fire, various snacks to nibble, and Dan in his favourite armchair and me on the smaller of the two sofas periodically fanning myself as I begin to get too hot.
We were both completely engrossed by this film, Dan because part of his doctorate was in behavioural psychology and me because part of my masters was in reflective psychology. (Believe me, our household is a funny place!) The reason we were so engrossed was because we saw ourselves in the two main characters. It sums up what excellent actors they are.
I was reminded of when I first approached Dan with the request that he should spank me. But more than that, it reminded us both of how we once were, way back before TTWD; way back before I had read or even heard of Fifty Shades.
If you have been with us since I started to blog, you will remember that I described the way our lives together had become rather like two people living in the same house, who just happened to be married.
There was nothing wrong with our marriage, per se, but frankly, it was often as boring as hell. We were both working full time, the kids were grown up and virtually off our hands, and all the magic had disappeared.
Remember that magic when you first set up home together? Remember the sex and how dynamic and exciting it was?
Remember the little conversations that mostly reverted to verbal foreplay and usually ended up in bed?
Ha!
I don't remember now why or how it happened, but I most certainly do remember after one notable altercation and makeup, resolving things were going to change, or it would probably be the end of us and our marriage.
Neither of us were to blame, although I think I was the bigger culprit than Dan.
I was bossy, mouthy, full of myself, and I never listened and often interrupted; I was always ready to criticise - Dan or anyone; and as for sex, well, what can I say?! No excitement, no joy, and an eternal headache!
I did a great deal of soul-searching and made up my mind that I needed to initiate change into our lives.
I don't remember what order I did things in, but I went on a diet, had my hair cut and some tiny orange streaks put in it, bought lots and lots of sexy underwear,
and then when we went on holiday I took some cherry flavoured lube and a vibrator.
(I have to mention here that had the picture above been of me, my boobs would've been hanging out all over the place!)
I told Dan we would be having sex every single day, and I would be initiating some memorable action he had probably given up all hope of ever having the pleasure of.
He came back from that holiday more tired in some ways than when he went! But we both had smiles on our faces that lasted and lasted.
I did my best to carry on at home the same as when we had been away.
And then came along Fifty Shades.
We had so many "brown paper packages" arriving at our house that Dan began to get alarmed.
Some of the stuff we tried, and then didn't bother with it again.
Some of the stuff we liked so much we practised hard so we would be better at it. It opened up a whole new world to us, so whilst some of your curl your lips at dear old Fifty, there are some of us who are wholeheartedly thankful the book was written.
And of course - it led me to you!
What came out of watching Hope Springs was the fact that without communication, you are lost.
To learn to communicate with each other, all over again, is like climbing Everest.
It's so difficult to begin, but once you have started, you need to keep plugging away at it, and suddenly you find the going is much easier than you had thought it would be.
Dan says that when I asked him so spank me that first time, he initially thought I had at last gone a bit batty, and then he thought it was a phase and that I would stop wanting it as soon as I realised a spanking could hurt.
He admits that he wasn't at all happy to spank the woman he had been married to for over thirty years. There are still lines he positively will not cross, and I steer away from them without comment. I have learned that when you least expect it, Dan can suddenly change his mind about something.
He absolutely will not restrain me in any way by tying my hands or feet; and he hates using a belt with a vengeance, (despite having used one on at least one very, very memorable occasion!) and loathes the marks a belt makes. (This harkens back to his boyhood when one was used on him by his dad and never forgotten.)
(He has, however, had to hold my hands on more than one occasion to prevent me reaching back and injuring myself.)
Yet he has no problem with most other things, and I know to my peril how much he loves "wood". He ignores the marks made by spoons, paddles, spatulas and rulers. They make no impression on him - just on me!
It's hard telling your fantasies to another person.
You need to trust them 100%. There's nothing worse than having your dreams trampled on. But fulfilling fantasies is not necessarily easy, nor is it something you can do in just a couple of nights/days. It takes time, effort and practice. We are most certainly still a "work in progress", and there are some aspects that we have realised we should have started on twenty years ago!
My fantasy of being spanked has turned into something I am not always madly keen on if you know what I mean? (A dark and meaningful narrowing of the eyes here.)
Dan's fantasy of my sleeping knickerless and mostly nightieless, in the warm weather anyway, is something I have taken a while to get used to, but is now a very pleasurable experience. (He ALWAYS strokes my bare behind when he joins me in bed at night regardless of the hour or whether I am asleep or not.)
Dan has told me that he 'owns' my bottom and likes uninhibited access to it. Hmmm...
We have other fantasies. In fact we are still working through the list. The fun we have gives me such a warm fuzzy feeling.
Dan has proved that he is much more open to change than the character played by Tommy Lee Jones in Hope Springs.
Thank goodness I realised in time that age is no barrier to making life more exciting, more sexy and above all else, more fun.
