Good weekend, great talk

My past weekend was very special to me, Saturday morning specifically. I gained this week, over a pound and a half. I had not felt good all week, my back and chest hurt like I had had a cold but I hadn't. I felt very blah and all I wanted to do was sleep and eat junk food. I didn’t sleep all week but I did overeat. Although Nick had told me the week before keep a food journal (and I did that week) I didn’t mess with it last week. I was very discouraged when I sent him my assignment this week. By then I was sure I had gained. I had no idea what if anything he would do and want worried me the most was that I didn’t care – and that is really not like me!

I weigh in on Friday mornings. Nick asked what is was and seemed surprised by the gain, I had been with me eating all week and I wasn’t surprised.

No more was said about it Friday but Saturday morning I was still mostly asleep when I hear Nick latch the bedroom door and I knew something was up. Now let me back up for a minute. There is one aspect of the spanking lifestyle that we have never even tried. I knew Nick couldn’t do it and I never even asked. Scolding. He can’t do it. Not with the kids and not with me. I first notice it when the children were small. His attempts to fuss or scold sounded apologetic. I don’t mean he couldn’t blow up at a child caught in the act of writing on the walls (Mollie) or carelessly spilling poster paint on our brand new carpet (LJ). But the general fussing and scolding were left to me. Now in the strange little world of spankos some scolding is desired. But what happened Saturday morning was not scolding, it was real caring and it touched me.

After he closed the door he said we need to talk about the diet. “Why didn’t you keep the food log this week?”

I said “Well you didn’t actually say that I had to keep it this week.” He just gave me a look and so I went on a bit more honestly. “I didn’t always have the book handy and I kept forgetting to go back and write everything down.” And then even more honestly “I didn’t want you to see everything I was eating this week.”

He was serious but not mad and not pretending to be and I already felt a shift in my mood. He went on “Scales and body weight are not an exact science you have been doing great and we can look at it that the very low weight last week was a bit off and that over a 2 week period you have lost 1.2 pounds. You know how good that is. But is seems like the food journal helped and when you saw that it was helping you just stopped using it.”

He was getting right to the heart of things and as he ‘scolded’ he didn’t seem to be one bit apologetic, just serious, like he really cared. It didn’t seem like a game I had asked him to play to get him to spank me, he seemed like a concerned husband that was determined to see that I did my best. And the way he was going to do this at that moment did include a spanking – with the hairbrush. He told me I could choose what he used as a warm up and I chose his hand.

When he was ready to start for real he made me stand up and put my hands on the bed then he said I needed to ask him for what I needed. WHAT? Not us… never have before… when did this happen… what’s with Nick?... all these thought were in my head but I just did as he told me to and I quietly asked him to spank me for over indulging and for not keeping up with the journal. He said “You know I love you don’t you?” And I could tell him honestly that yes I know he does.

If we are going to start this early morning spanking I sure need to wear more to bed! Even after a warm up, over 30 solid strikes to the bare bottom with that awful hairbrush in the early morning – most right on the sit spot - can really wake a girl up! When he finished I laid back on the bed and he began rubbing my bottom. As he rubbed he said matter-of-factly “You are going to have some bruises”. I really didn’t care. Except for my burning bottom (and maybe a little because of it) I was feeling really good! And in a short time I was feeling even better. All and all, the whole thing made me feel safe. Loved, cared for and safe, it doesn’t get much better than that.