I have been a wife and mother for over twenty years. Now I am becoming my husband's lover, too.
We owe it all to my fellow bloggers who gave me the courage to come out to my husband as a spanko.
I do feel like this is a New Beginning for us.

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Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Sometimes the HOH Won't listen!

Nick was off this past week. I won’t call it a vacation. The man has a hard time sitting and resting. His parents need so much right now. MIL is in a care facility and he visits her nearly every day, I try to go a couple of times a week. Unfortunately, she can only stay there until this Thursday. She was released from rehab, although she can barely walk across the room. There are no beds there in the ‘nursing home’ side so Nick’s sister is taking her to her home. I don’t think that’s a good idea at all, but being an in-law I keep my mouth shut. His Dad is still living alone and doing pretty well, but one of the kids goes every day to take a meal. All the brothers and sisters are helping (one not as much as others, but still.) The situation is tense and it keeps Nick from sleeping well.


Not exactly this. 

The time of my family reunion is fast approaching so there are many things to be done around the house to get ready. Nick does tons of that too, but I’ve really been trying to help him outside a little and I’m doing well on all the inside chores and lining up my part of the food. But what do you do with a HOH who won’t listen? He overworks out in the heat, he won’t come in and rest when I tell him to. He’s up on ladders and even on the roof cleaning out gutters. My man is wonderful, but a spring chicken he is not!

Should he be working hours in this heat and humidity? NO. Can I get on the roof and help him? NO. Can we afford to have someone come do it? YES. Will he listen to me? NO. Someone surely needs a spanking and this time it’s not me! But as with most of you, there is only one spanker in the house and it’s not me. I’m afraid it’s just Nick’s way to over work when he is stressed and worried. All I can do is be on hand, watch and listen when he is on the roof and help with his parents when I can.

Now I don’t mean to say we didn’t have any fun on his week off, cause we did. The temperature might be horrible during the day time, but it’s perfect for skinning dipping at night and coming up for some MFL afterwards. 



We also took a day to ride up into the mountains and I always enjoy that – the riding part. Hiking is not my thing. I can walk quite well on reasonable flat smooth ground.  Picking my want through toe snagging roots and climbing up rocks, not so much.

I desperately needed my walking stick, which I didn’t have but I did make it up one trail to a place Mollie had suggested. She said it was a short easy hike. She lied. I told her later, “Try this again when you’re sixty.” To which she replied “I will. And I’ll let you know what I think.” 

It actually wouldn’t have been all that bad if I had had that good walking stick and for all my complaining I’ve told Nick I’d go back with him again this fall when the leaves turn. It should be specular. Here are a few pictures of what I thought was a rough trail, but a great reward at the end.



We started with toe grabbing roots.


This was the smooth easy part.


These looked even steeper in real life and they
turned near the top to the left and kept going.  
Not fun going up or down with nothing to hold on to.





But I have to admit the view was incredible.
This is why I'm willing to try it again in the fall.








After all that we did my kind of mountain fun – we went to a park up that that we love, sat by a stream and read for a few hours. Then to a great restaurant with a fantastic view before heading home.  Not a completely restful week off but we did have some fun.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

The Sad Truth


This is about the saddest truth I've ever seen.




Friday, July 14, 2017

Fantasy Friday - The Storm

I've tried to get more people interested in writing for Fantasy Friday so that maybe we could have one story a month. Many thanks to Baker for taking the plunge last week with her first story. 

I'm putting up Cathy's last story today since I reposted her first two. I hope you enjoy it.


The Storm

Dennis isn’t a bossy person. We usually talk things over and decide about things together. He hardly ever tells me, no you can’t do that. But when he does it’s important to him that I listen. I’ve learned that besides just not making him mad, it’s usually a good idea.

There was one time a few years ago that I really wish I’d listen to him, but I didn’t. This was back before the baby was born. I took my older 2 kids to visit my sister for the afternoon. I love my sister but after a day with 5 kids all under 7 I was ready to head home. I was just about to call Dennis when he called there. He said that there were bad storms coming and he didn’t want me to drive home. He told me to spend the night. I argued with him some but he wouldn’t budge. So I planned on staying until my sister’s 6 year old pushed my 2 year old down and my sister called my little one a cry baby. I just wanted to take my babies and go home. I knew Dennis would probably still say no, so I didn’t call.

I sure made a big mistake. I ain’t ever driven in any worse weather. The rain was so hard I couldn’t see the road some of the time. The wind liked to blow me off the road. I tried pulling off but when I did a tree blew down right beside us. It would have killed us if it had hit the car so I pulled out and kept going. My poor kids were as scared as I was but I couldn’t hardly do nothing for them and try to drive too.

We finally got home in one piece. Usually it’s just a little over an hour drive it, but it had taken more than 2 and a half hours to get home. Dennis had called my sister about a half hour after we left to tell me that there were tornados in the area. My sister told me later that he pitched a fit when he found out we’d headed home. We didn’t have cell phones so he’d been mighty scared the whole time.

When I finally got home we were both more worried about the kids than anything else. Dennis is the best daddy in the world. He sat them both on his lap and let them talk about what they’d seen and how scared they’d been. They told him about the wind and the rain and the tree falling. My least one was too little to talk good yet but Dennis would ask her yes and no questions and he would listen to her baby talk as she tried to tell him what she’d seen. While the kids were telling Dennis about the car rocking in the wind and the tree falling so close Dennis would look up at me with a real serious look. He must have sat there near an hour talking with them and by that time they got through talking Dennis had turned it all into an adventure and proof that God loved them and would always look after them.

After we got supper and the kids to bed Dennis just come and put his arms around me. He just held me quiet like for the longest time. I knew he really didn’t want to do what he was going to do but he felt like he had to. He asked me why I hadn’t done like he told me. He didn’t think being mad at my sister was much of a reason for putting all our lives in danger. I told him I was real sorry I hadn’t listened to him. He said he didn’t boss me much but he expected me to listen when he had to. He told me I had a whippin coming, but I already knew.

We went into the bedroom and I didn’t say anything cause I knew he was right. He told me to take off my jeans and panties too. I did like he told me. I felt real bad about what I’d done but when Dennis started to take off his belt I started crying. I hate the belt. My daddy only whipped me twice but both times it was with the belt. Dennis never had to use it before. He sure whipped my butt that night. It hurt real bad. Besides that big old wide belt itself I hated that I wasn’t across his lap. If I have to have a whippin I want to be close to him, not leaning over the end of the bed. It was as hard a whippin as I ever got from Dennis, but I guess it was about the dumbest thing I ever did too.

I know some for you say you like to make love after a spanking and that you think it’s sexy. I don’t think that there is anything sexy about having Dennis that upset and getting a belt taken to your behind like that. But afterwards Dennis just held me while I cried and told me that he loved me. I was sorry and I was wrong not to listen when he told me to stay put that day. He was trying to keep us safe like he always does.


I've hope you've enjoyed this reprisal of Fantasy Friday. And I hope some of you are thinking of trying your hand at a story. If you have a story to share or if you have any questions about writing one please send it or contact me at elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Say I love you with bacon

I needed to say something about my husband. Although I would never trash my man for any reason, I do come here to complain about him a little once and a while. Spanking/ not spanking, I often mildly gripe about a few things. But in case you might be new here I’d like to paint a more accurate picture.

My parents spoiled me as I grew up, after I married the pattern didn’t change much. Almost so subtly that don’t even notice, Nick spoils me like crazy. I know my close friends out here are hurting themselves nodding in agreement.

But it really hit me again the other morning. Nick always gets up early, on the days he works he’s often out of the house before four. He doesn’t work on Fridays, but he still up early. Sometimes he has cereal for breakfast but often he’ll fix bacon and eggs for himself. (I do often make blueberry pancakes for him on Saturdays.) When Nick makes bacon, he’ll throw in a couple of slices of for me. He knows I love bacon and don’t mind eating it cold.



Last Friday I was getting out of the shower when he said, “I’m heading to the golf course. Sorry about breakfast, there was only one piece of bacon this morning.”

“No problem,” I told him and with a quick pop to my wet bottom he was gone. I dried my hair and dress then headed to the kitchen. There on the counter, on a small plate, was a half a piece of bacon.

It almost made me cry. This man loves me and boy, do I love him! The next time I complain you all should come after me with a switch!

Friday, July 07, 2017

Fantasy Friday - The Wait (Brand New FF)


I'm so happy to tell you we have a brand new Fantasy Friday today! I guess after listening to my begging and badgering a friend took pity on me and tried her hand at a little fiction writing. 

Baker, from Our Sweeter Approach to Life, sent me her first story and I think she did a great job! I ask her for a brief bio for those of you not familiar with her blog.

I am in my early 40s and have been married to my sweet man for over 15 years, but we've only been in a dd relationship for about 14 months.  We have several children that we love dearly, but drive us a little crazy and keep us on the go.  I've been blogging for about eight months.  Blogging challenges me in many ways.  I've learned to speak my heart, accept criticism and learn from others. 

Thank you Baker!  Now everyone enjoy...




The Wait

Why am I here?  Better question.  Why am I here again?  The paint is still that lovely periwinkle color.  The floor that same freezing cold oak floor that I normally admire.  I am so tired of seeing this paint so close up even if it is such a rich shade of blue.  My feet tired of being icy cold begging me for cozy, fluffy slippers.  I shiver as I feel his eyes watching me from the comfort of our bed.

Why did I say that to him?  Why did I have to use that dreadful voice?  Why cannot I find that submissive girl he loves so much.  Nope, I had to open my mouth again and say that one word that just put him over the edge.  Use that tone that just evokes so much disrespect that I even cringe remembering it.

No.  I could not just be good and listen to his side.  I wanted to argue the point to the death.  My death.  Well, not really my death, but the death of my bottom side that was now not so proudly on display for my husband to see.  I could feel his eyes on my backside, just watching me.  Daring me to move from position.   My skin prickling at the thought of his intense glare.  

My hands.  Oh, how I wish I could wring them in front of me.  Standing still is so hard.  Holding that wicked brush behind me, harder still.  I close my eyes so I can think.  Think about what I had said.  What had lead me to this place where the wall felt too close for comfort and my body shivered in not only the chill of the room, but also in anticipation of what was to come.  

Thump, thump, thump...my heart pounding in my ears.  I thought this was to calm me, center me.  No, my anxiety began to rise as the waiting continued.  I just ached for it all to be over.  To be in his arms.  Forgiven.  Why was he making me wait here so long?  Time hung in the air as I stood.  That brush touching my skin, knowing even now it felt hard and callous against my smooth bottom.  

I opened my eyes, feeling the need to not think too much as the anticipation grew inside.  My toes.  A lovely shade of rose blossom pink stared up at me from the floor.  Maybe, next time I’d have them in a matching shade of blue as the wall.  Then, then they will match the wall that they stood so close to.  

“Eyes on the wall,” came a gruff voice from behind me.  My breath hitched as my eyes sprung up.  My eyes may have met the wall, but it was my stomach flipping and my bottom clenching with growing concern that made me shutter.  How had he known my eyes were no longer there, did I really drop my chin that far to gaze at my toes?

“Focus on what you said and how you said it,” came the command.  My mind wondered, should I answer, “Yes, Sir?”  No, I’m certain he said not to say a word.  Even those two respectful words “Yes, Sir” would not be appreciated now.  I was not to speak, just think.  Reevaluate my heart, my words.  I knew one thing.  If that word ever came out in conversation with him again, I had better be halfway across the world and the brush had better have been mailed to the moon.  Silence.  It descended upon me then.   I had been foolish to utter such a careless word.  I had hurt him and soon, too soon….

“Come here!”  I almost dropped the brush when he spoke.  I did not.  I cinched it tightly in my hand even as I wished to fling it across the room and run.  I turned to him full well knowing of what was to come.
~o~

Once again, thank Baker for participating in Fantasy Friday. Don't forget to let Baker know what you think of her story and go by and check our her blog.

Next week I'm planning to put up the final story Cathy had sent me and then it will be up to all of you to see if there are any more. If you're willing to try your hand at a story, send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Monday, July 03, 2017

Still thinking about the spanking lifestyle

I’m still in the mood to talk to myself, so I’m continuing along the thoughts of what I posted Saturday...

I sometimes wonder why Nick never really stepped up to the idea of dd. Some reasons are obvious. You don’t hit girls. He finally understood the concept of spanking. When he saw it was truly something I liked, when it turned me on sexually, then it was okay. But to ‘hit’, or even spank me to change my attitude, to enforce a rule, to ‘make’ me do something. He never really grasped that concept. Being the ‘boss’ never seemed right to him since he always has and always will see us as equals. It’s hard to argue with his logic.

So I keep asking myself – what is it I really want from him? If I don’t really want him to boss me around (and I don’t), then if he pretends like he’s doing it and it’s not real, then isn’t it just a game and I know that’s not what I want.

I’m beginning to understand his overall confusion.

I do know I’d like us to be closer. When we first started this, we were really close for the first time in our marriage. As I do more thinking, maybe it wasn’t the spanking, maybe it was the closeness and communication that we had at the time. I had to explain all about TTWD, explain why I liked it, what I wanted and why I wanted it.

He did want to know what it was all about at first and we talked a lot. Sometimes face to face, but often by email. He didn’t mind reading what I was thinking, he was excited too. The change in me was amazing. It wasn’t something he could have missed. I went
from a frigid, don’t touch me, let’s just be friends type of wife to someone who obviously adored him and who had wild crazy sexual ideas I wanted to try. I wanted to touch him all the time and have him touch me. We smiled more, we took the time to look into one another eyes – especially when we were with others. It’s like we had a delicious secret that made me so happy I felt like I’d swallowed sunshine.

I guess you’ve realized, if you’ve gotten this far, that I’m rambling. But these thought, wished, desires are always running through my head and where better to siphon them off than my blog.

Questions for you. Will your man talk about TTWD with you? Are you so established in what you do that you don’t need to discuss it any longer? Would you like to talk about it with him? Do you talk face to face or email? If you don’t really talk about it is there anything you would like to tell your guy about TTWD that you think he should understand better.

I really would love some answers here – leave a comment or if you have a blog, you could answer in a post.

I prefer to talk through emails. I think so much better when it comes out of my fingers rather than my mouth. I’m just as bad as Nick in that regard. I think Nick is embarrassed to talk to me about TTWD, even after all these years. Even when he talks about things I need to do for my health it comes out as teasing or a joke and not serious. But it may just be that it embarrasses him to tell me what to do, so he says it in a teasing way rather than like he’s serious, so I end up talking it as a joke. What a silly cycle we’re in.
  
Nick’s a busy man – working, taking care of two parents in two different directions, taking care of our yard and his dad’s. I feel asking him to ‘talk about TTWD or feelings’ is just one more job for him.

We don’t talk anymore, well that's not true, we talk all the time. We just don’t talk about us, or our feelings, or what we could do to get closer. He doesn't want to talk about such things. So I’ve learned to shut up and not bother him. But I think spending more time talking might help.