Trying again, I think - part two

Many might think emailing is a strange way for a married couple living alone to communicate, but it works for us. We each have time to think about what the other has said and give thought to our answers. Something I can't always do in a face to face, or even a hand to butt, conversation. You can check back here to the beginning of our exchange. 

Nick said:

I appreciate Liz’s arbitration and your acceptance that regardless of your assumptions you were amiss in acting without discussion. More on that later.

I think we agree that I’m not going to be looking over your shoulder and keeping up with your every move and telling you what to do.

I would prefer that you could view things with less of an all or nothing mentality.

I think we can still find ways to incorporate consequences but the challenges exist.

How can we have rules that are meaningful but are neither too difficult to achieve or too easy.  Can we create a situation where you are responsible for self-reporting in a way that gives me a hint.  For example “I didn’t meet my exercise objectives this week”.  Rereading the Corbin’s Bend story reminds me of the difficulty in matching my actions to your expectations. 

(I had asked him to re-read Returning to Us, my Corbin's Bend book to help him better understand what I have often thought and to show him what I thought he was thinking/feeling.)

(This next part hurt me to read it, but it was true.)

Although I have frequently heard directly or indirectly how I have failed in our attempts, I don’t feel like I received enough guidance or positive reinforcement when I was on the right track. I realize that is difficult without “topping from the bottom”.  A situation where Liz could have been more helpful, perhaps.

With all that you have written to me or in your blog over the years have you ever considered how much was based on your needs and desires versus how things could be better for me?

All of this said, it leaves a lot of room for more discussion (communication).

Back to the original issues. Tell your Butt to buck up. 

I await your thoughts.

I answered myself this time rather than going through Liz.

My thoughts aren’t earthshattering, but I’m trying to view things differently. I spent the first forty-nine years of life with some degree of fantasy about TTWD. It all lived in my head and I was content. Then I got the courage to come out and for the next dozen years we played around with it – sometimes doing well, sometimes not so much. This last couple of years really we haven’t done much and I went back to living in my head. That’s comfortable for me.

Your willingness/desire to bring it back up intrigues me. I’m certainly willing to give it another go. And you are definitely right that I concentrated on my needs rather than yours. I guess what I’m trying to say now is that now this is now your ball game to direct. Maybe that’s what my tentative submission should have been doing all along. 

I have no desire to direct, coerce, manage, expect, lead, beg, force, pressure, explain, demand or plead. I think we live happier when we practice TTWD, but if it’s not part of my real life I can still find it in my imagination and we can go back to being a regular vanilla couple.

Please don’t take this as, “Do what you want! I don’t care.” I’m not saying that at all. I will do my best an enthusiastic participant. But I’m taking your lead, and trying not to have expectations. I’ve had my say through thirteen plus years of blogging. It’s certainly time for yours.

How do you see this going? I’ll answer questions and discuss things if you’d like. If you suggestion things I really don’t think I can live with,  I let you know. But whatever happens, happens. Whether you choose to do weekly maintenance or spanking only comes up every couple of months, whether it’s a few pop on the butt in the kitchen or you have me begging for mercy in the bedroom – it’s up to you. I have no specific expectation.

I think the boat has sailed as far as submission goes. I thought that was what I wanted for a long time, but I can’t recapture the feeling. I am willing to listen to my husband and try to honor as many of his requests as I can. I'm willing to accept the  consequences when I don't. I don’t really know what’s on the table right now as far as what you’d like me to do or not do. I guess you’ll tell me when you share your thoughts. Please be as specific as you can be.

Today was good. I appreciated the time for reflection and contemplation.

Love you

I'll share the last of this particular conversation soon. Probably Monday. 

Trying again, I think.

I really appreciate the comments I got from the ‘Are there any Spankos out here?’ There are still those working on TTWD and we all seem to be able to acknowledge that it ain’t always easy! I had put it away. No, I didn’t ask Nick. I assumed I’d already gotten that answer by the fact it was no longer in our lives. But then he emailed. You know we communicate that way better than any other.

Sometimes Nick writes to my alter-ego, Liz. He ask her questions about me and sometimes it’s easier for her to just tell it like it is. (Okay, maybe it’s weird, but it works for us. With his permission I’m posting some of our exchanges.) He said...

Liz,

Once again I need your assistance. Consider the situation as I see it and consider weighing in as an arbitrator.

My lovely wife made changes without discussing things in advance or expressing her feelings in any way. She did so while making assumptions about my feelings. Simply put these could be seen as spanking offenses.

PK, on the other hand, would make a strong case that she assumed our agreements weren't currently active.

Perhaps as an unbiased arbitrator you could weigh in the best interest of all parties.

Liz answered him...

Nick,

Personally I think your wife watches ‘Friends’ too much, when I first asked her about this, all she did was yell, “WE WERE ON A BREAK!” She admits she came to this belief without actually talking to you or asking anything about what you were thinking. On the other hand, for months and months you gave no indication by word or deed that you were not on a break. So neither of you is blameless in the situation you now find yourselves.

Your wife is scared. She’s scared to give up the comfort she’s found in walling herself off from all feelings of TTWD. And she’s also scared to say no, and give up the hopes and dreams that are a part of her.

As an arbitrator, I’m trying to see both sides. I think you would love for her to give up the push for a ‘lifestyle’ and just enjoy the fun, sexy, playful side of TTWD. She could pretend this for a while. But it would be a lie, a game she would quickly tire of. If there is no realism for her, the game eventually becomes annoying. Yet she is not looking for heavy rigid rules, especially ones that neither of you really care about.

What I could finally get her to tell me was this: she’s changing her ‘no’ about TTWD to a maybe. She’s willing to explore again, tentatively. But I don’t think she plans on directing. She tried that for a dozen years and it didn’t work. If you want to give her some strong suggestions with the idea you might spanking her if she doesn’t go along, then for pity sake chose something you feel serious about. I think she’s willing to accept your thoughts on penalties for not discussing all this beforehand. 

*One note – I heard from her butt, her lily white, returned to a virgin vanilla state and wants to stay that way, butt. It said, and I quote, “Leave me the hell out of this! I didn’t agree to one damn thing. Can’t you just yell at her like other husbands do? I shouldn’t have to pay the price! This isn’t fair!”

I told her butt to shut-up and take one for the team.

That’s how it started. More later…

Fantasy Friday Revival - Training Lisa

* If you're out cruising blogland, please stop by the Reading Room today for a short snippet from Cassie's Tale.

Welcome to Fantasy Friday! Today's story comes from a lovely gentleman, Florida Dom. You can find him on his blog - he seldom post these days, but he is quite a guy. This was his first attempt at a spanking story and I think he did a great job.

Training Lisa

Crack! Crack! Crack!

As Lisa impatiently tapped her pen on the polished wooden conference table in the quiet board room, the sound crackled in the room and all the men in the room knew what it meant. Lisa was the only woman in the room, but she was calling the shots. She was only 30 years old, but she was on the fast track, running a division for a Fortune 500 company. She had an Ivy League MBA and she was ambitious and eager to climb the corporate ladder.

With her long blond hair and her tailored suits, the tall woman was an imposing figure in the board room both physically and mentally. She had a great figure, but the men in the board room were too intimidated to pay much attention to that. She didn't use her sex to get ahead. She was usually the smartest person in the room and she didn't suffer fools gladly.

When she tapped her pen, it was a sign that she didn't like the presentation she had just heard. She told the man who had just finished the presentation that she hoped he'd do better next time. Roger knew he'd be called into her office after the meeting and it wouldn't be pleasant.

Lisa knew she had to be tough with her subordinates to prove she could handle the job just like a man. She knew they often used the b-word behind her back and even called her the Cobra. That didn't bother her. She wasn't looking for their approval. She was looking for results. She wanted to keep moving up the corporate ladder and shatter the glass ceiling and was willing to pay any price to do it.

But one price was getting increasing difficult to pay.

When she shut the door of her luxury condo each night after a long day at the office, she felt unfulfilled. She knew she liked to be in command in the board room, but that wasn't what she wanted in the bedroom. It had taken her a long time to accept the fact that she wanted to be submissive in the bedroom, that she wanted to submit to a strong man who was an HOH and live a DD lifestyle.

She first started having fantasies about being spanked and being submissive when she was a teen-ager. She first tried to bury her feelings and then she started using her trusty vibrator to get off while savoring these fantasies. But trying to live them out in real life was no easy feat. She did some casual dating in college and fucked a few guys, but she never found the kind of strong man who could take control of her. And once she started out in the corporate world, she had little time and the pool of men who were available was shrinking rapidly. She couldn't date any of her subordinates and she didn't have many peers.

Lisa tried to find men online and even met a couple and while they were willing to spank her, it was just a game to them to get sex. They weren't serious about it and left her more unfulfilled and eager to get back to her vibrator.

She was about ready to give up until one night she read a want ad that seemed to be too good to be true. It said that he was an executive looking for a woman who was a tiger in the corporate world, but a lamb in the bedroom, who was dominant outside the bedroom and submissive in it, who was looking for a HOH who would teach her the DD lifestyle. The woman he wanted would be ready to obey and submit to spankings when the HOH deemed them necessary.

She could feel herself tingle as she read the message. One of her hands instinctively started to reach inside her pants until she realized she needed both hands to type and she knew she was going to respond to this message. Her hands started to fly on the keyboard as she quickly provided a profile of herself that the man who posted the ad had required. She told him how successful she was in the board room, but was looking for the right man who knew how to tame her and spank her. And then she hesitated before she hit the send button. She wondered if this was all a fantasy for her or whether he was the right one and whether she was ready for it. But she decided she had to find out. She exhaled and hit the send button. And waited. And waited. There was no response. She was frustrated and she started to go through some work documents, but kept going back to her email. Finally, after a couple of hours, there was response. She quickly opened it up and it only said that her application had been received and an answer would be forthcoming in a day or two.

Application? That sounded kind of cold, but she figured she'd have to be patient. What she didn't know that the man who wrote the email was a CEO of his own company, just the kind of person Lisa was looking for. And Lisa was the type of person he was looking for. He had met a few women who liked to be spanked, but you can't spend all your time in the bedroom and he hadn't found an intellectual equal. Lisa looked like the kind of woman he was looking for. But he also knew the way to control a submissive was not to act too eager. To make her wait and let the anticipation build.

Lisa didn't know any of this. All she knew was that she was excited about the possibilities and had she had trouble sleeping that night. Even her vibrator couldn't satisfy her. And she had a long day at work the next day. She was distracted and had to force herself to keep focused on her work. All she could think about was getting home and checking her home email account. But when she finally got home and raced to her computer to turn it on, she was disappointed. There was no reply. That meant another long night at home as she again had trouble keeping her mind off him and kept checking her email every 15 minutes. She tried watching TV but couldn't concentrate and went to bed. She was tired but again, she tossed and turned and didn't find much relief in her vibrator.

She had another long day at work as she fought to concentrate and she raced home and again turned on her computer. Again, there was only frustration. There was no response. So she spent another evening checking her email every 15 minutes even though she kept telling herself to stop doing it. Finally, about 10 p.m. came the response. She was thrilled with it. He said that they seemed to have enough in common to start a relationship. But first she would have to prove she was serious by following his rules. If she wanted to give it a try, she only had to send a four word reply - I will obey, Sir. Again, she quickly typed it out and then hesitated before she hit the send but button. She knew this was another step forward to what she wasn't sure, but she wanted to take that step. She felt another tingle when she took that step. He quickly replied that
she would get her first set of rules tomorrow night. Again, she was disappointed that he didn't tell her immediately, but she got explosive relief from her vibrator and she slept soundly. She knew she was about to get a taste of what she had wanted all those years.

She again had trouble concentrating at work and was eager to get home and find out what her first set of rules were to follow. But when she got home, she was again disappointed. He hadn't sent them. She didn't know that making her wait was a part of his gaining the control in the relationship. Finally, about 10 p.m., she got her first three rules. She wasn't allowed to touch herself or orgasm unless she text him and asked permission and if it was denied, she was to obey. He was now in charge of her pleasure. She also was only allowed to shave her legs. She couldn't shave under her arms and couldn't shave her bottom. He would now be in charge of shaving her bottom and her unshaved arms were his mark on her, a sign of her submission. And third, she had to put a piece of sandpaper on her computer chair and sit on it with a bare butt when she was on the computer. This was the first step in toughening her butt for the spankings to come.

She was thrilled that she now had rules to follow. She knew it would be difficult to have to ask permission to use her vibrator but figured that was the price she had to pay for what she wanted. And she could live with not shaving. She only trimmed her bottom to wear bikinis and if he didn't want her to shave under her arms, she figured it would be a constant reminder that he was in charge. In fact, each day before she got in the shower and saw the hair start to grow, it was a turn on for her knowing she was doing it for Him. And while the sandpaper on her butt was uncomfortable, it was another thing he was doing for Him.

Meanwhile, he continued to take it slow. He wanted her to be eager for him. He would usually allow her permission to orgasm, but kept her off balance by denying it at times. Those were long nights for her because she was so needy, but it was another thing she was doing for Him. He traded emails with her for about a week before he allowed her to talk to him on the phone for the first time. That was a thrill for her because he had such a commanding voice. And he rewarded her with a shattering orgasm at the end of each call, which made her more eager for the next one.

Finally, he was ready for the next step - their first meeting and her first spanking. But he said there would be guidelines. He said he would come to her condo and that she would be blindfolded the whole time. He said some women found the fantasy of spanking better than the real thing. After she had one and if she decided she wanted to continue, she would see him on their second visit which would include going out to dinner. He said she could make as many safe calls as she wanted during the session to assure her safety but those were the ground rules. She had gone too far to back out now. She quickly agreed. He told her she would wear a blouse and skirt but no panties or bra. When he knocked on the door and she recognized his voice, she would unlock the door and go to the dining room chair where she would have left out wine, cheese and crackers. She would then lift her skirt up and place her bare bottom on a piece of sandpaper, put on her blindfold and wait for him.

After a few minutes, he opened the door and went to her dining room where she waited. She recognized his voice and quickly fell into an animated conversation. He fed her wine and some cheese and crackers but all she could think of was what was to come - her first spanking. Again, he didn't rush things. After about an hour, he quietly asked her, "Are you ready.'' She quickly answered,” Yes, Sir.''

He got up and grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet and walked her to the sofa. He sat on downs and then pulled her over his knees. He flipped up her skirt and didn't have to worry about her panties because she obeyed and didn't wear them. Her butt was perfect for spanking, nice and round. But he again made her wait as he slowly rubbed her bottom while she almost started to pant because she was so excited about getting her first spanking. When he whacked her for the first time, it almost took her breath away. It felt so good and she had waited so long for it. And then as he started increasing the blows, she felt the pain, but she loved it. And he didn't hit her too hard because it was her first one. He wanted her to get used to the sensation. Finally, as her butt started to get pink, he stopped and she exhaled. He then rubbed her as she savored it.

He then got her up and walked her to the bedroom and laid her down on her back and told her to hold her hands together behind her head. It was time for her first shaving by a man. He put a towel under her and first used a scissors to clip most of her hair and then spread on the shaving cream and started slowly shaving her. She loved the sensation as he moved the razor up and down and she knew she was becoming very smooth and yummy. After he finished, he rubbed a warm towel over her and she felt completely smooth for the first time. After fingering her, he went down on her with his tongue. She kept lifting up her butt trying to get him to go deeper but he'd only retreat until she calmed down and then he'd do it again. He then told her there was going to be no sex tonight. He was just giving her a taste this first time. If she wanted to continue, she'd have to tell him she wanted there to be a next time. She exclaimed, "Yes, yes, please,'' but he said this wasn't to be decided in a moment of passion. She was to stay on the bed for 15 minutes until after he left. And then she had to wait for another hour before she messaged him. If she wanted a next time, she would message him once again, "I will obey, Sir.''

He then left her panting on the bed and told her that she was not allowed her to bring herself to orgasm after she gave him her answer. He then quietly left and locked the door behind him. She heard the click but still didn't know what he looked like. After about 15 minutes, she took off the blindfold and took a cold shower to calm down. And then she had to wait for an hour to send her
answer.

She didn't have to wait that long to decide on her answer. She knew what it was going to be. She knew her fingers would be typing, "I will obey, Sir.''

~o~

FD you did a great job. I hope you and your lady are still doing well! If anyone else is interested in sharing a Fantasy Friday story with us please send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Are there Spankos out here?

Just a quick up date. Mollie seems to have done fine with her root canal. As usual, paying was the most painful. But what can you do? The cardiologist is doing some test next week, but nothing on the EKG alarmed him, so we’ll see what they show. 

I enjoyed my lunch with the pastor. We talked about many things. She seemed very interested in what I had to say about reincarnation and asked questions. I pointed out several places in the Bible that seem to refer to the concept. I think I honestly gave her something to think about.

Now the next subject – TTWD.  We haven’t been active in TTWD for a long, long time. A little slap and tickle one and a while, but nothing really. Nick has brought it up again. My head is asking, ‘do I really want to even try again?’ My heart says, ‘You’re a spanko, how can you not try again if he wants to?’

I know TTWD is easier when I feel I have support out here – having other women in my situation who are willing to talk and share their experiences with me, as well as listen to what I want to share, is important. Those willing to voice that support has definitely dwindled out here. I appreciate all of you who do still participate. If you read here and are in a spanking relationship and you’re willing to give and receive support I’d welcome your comments. Think about it.

Dentist, Cardiologist and reincarnation

I like my slow, lazy restful days. Get up when I wake up, get my breakfast and watch GMA while I check Facebook and my emails. Then I head to my writing room to work on the book. Next week, however, I’m busy.

Early this morning I have to be at Mollie’s  to drive her to her dentist app. She had a horrible tooth ache about a month ago. She began by telling me she was going to ignore it cause she did have time to get to the dentist. I tried to explain that tooth aches didn’t work that way. She soon came to believe me. She took a half day off to see her dentist and find out she had an abscess. He gave her antibiotics but she was still in such pain (he gave her nothing for the pain) that she took the next day off. That was her first sick day in her five year teaching career. Eventually the antibiotics kicked in and she was fine, but she’ll have a root canal tomorrow. This dentist is about an hour away and I’m going along just in case she doesn’t feel like driving back. I’ve got the time and freedom, so why not.

Tuesday I have my appointment with the cardiologist. When I saw my doctor she said that even though I’m having no real problems, that was definitely her suggestion. She asked me which one I’d like to see – like I’ve ever met a cardiologist. I told her I’d like to see the one she would go to if this were happening to her. Her answer was ‘Dr. L for sure!’ I’ve never heard of him but fine. Since then I’ve mentioned it to a few people who had dealt with cardiologist  and I’ve gotten the same response from each, “Oh, I love Dr. L!” Good enough for me.

Wednesday I’m having lunch with my pastor. She texted me the other day saying she needed help on her homework and asking me for five to six words to describe my experience at our church – I’ve been going there all my life. I sent her back – safe, accepted, acknowledged, heard and loved. She asked me to tell her what I really meant by acknowledged. I gave her two examples one was moving from a child at the church to eventually becoming a member of the church council at a fairly young age. My Dad and those his age were still on it, but they acknowledged my ‘coming of age’ and gave me and my thought the same respect as those of my elders. 

My second example was that when I spoke of reincarnation in my Sunday School class, while no one else agreed with me, they acknowledged the possibility as I quoted scripture to support my beliefs.

The pastor was extremely intrigued and said, ‘I’d love to talk to you about those beliefs.’ I told her anytime! And she came back with how about Wednesday at lunch? So I’m excited to talk to someone who wants to hear what I have to say.

So this is how I’m spending my week. I’ll let you know if the doctor has anything interesting to say.

Fantasy Friday - On Julie's Beach with a Paddle, part two

Check out the snippet at the Reading Room today too!

As promised, part two ...

ON JULIE’S BEACH WITH A PADDLE - part two

John proceeded to painstakingly hop around to the driver’s side. I threw myself over the top of the gear box knowing I couldn’t even stand outside the car because, for the first time in my life I was afraid of John and he was totally justified. I had almost hurt us by not paying attention to polite local driving customs. I was speeding through the intersection full of myself while I berated an injured John in the process. The last thing that came out of my mouth was ‘so fuckin’ get over it’. I wanted to die. Driving his own car while his left knee was visibly swelling; he grimaced in unrelenting pain. I wanted to cry but didn’t dare.

John’s cell rang. It was Sharon and I could hear the kids in the car. They sounded so happy. That was light years from where John and I sat in our funeral procession drive home. That is what it felt like and coincidentally Sharon shouted through the phone as if our car were as noisy on the inside as hers,

“Where’s the funeral, we just passed you two headed north on the strip and you didn’t see us waving like mad out our windows. Davey proposed that you had kidnapped his mom for cash but that Dave refused pay the ransom, so you were both stuck! Just kidding Julie! If you can hear me, sorry honey! Davey is definitely crackin’ us up today!” She laughed so lightheartedly.

Oh God, if she had only known that John would find little financial value in me at this point in time. My heart felt like it was racing and had just stopped all at once, as I realized I had to face Dave and then Sharon. But most painful would be facing Dave. I felt like a prisoner, John the Jail guard, judge and jury. I was fucked. The sad thing was all I wanted to do was be alone somewhere to kick my own ass. I kept saying to myself ‘what was I thinking?’ but then my monster ego came loping into yelling “you weren’t stupid bitch”. And then as I looked at John holding the cell phone (I managed to get my downcast eyes up that high) I knew I’d pay big time. This was the day that John would be guiding my marriage into the future.

“Hey Shar? I want you to take the kids out for lunch and a movie, if you don’t mind. I have some serious shit to discuss with Dave about Julie. Nothing I haven’t said before, but this time she’s her own prosecutor. Its part of the reason we looked like death warmed over when you passed us.” A long fifteen seconds passed.

“No, I won’t go into it now. Just keep the kids occupied for the better part of the day. I think we will need to have John’s kids over for a campfire tonight. Hopefully at the end of the evening Julie will be settled into their new direction.” A long pause occurred.

“All right, I gotta go, love you babe. Ya, I’ll tell her, only it will be later, much later.” He hung up and his caste iron eyes felt too heavy, like my heart couldn’t support the weight of their glare. John pulled the car down the street the ocean glare was magnificent. There were surfers and bikinis and pick ups everywhere. Everybody was drinking something cold and happy to be on the beach and ith each other.

“Julie!” I jumped at my name when we pulled into the driveway of our beach house. Dave looked toward us with a big smile and motioned toward the cooler.

“Stay in the car!” John hissed out through his lips.

I had never seen him like this. He spoke through gritted teeth. How dramatic was that? I asked myself rhetorically, trying to find fault with his behavior. I stayed in the car staring at the pack of cigarettes I had just bought. I was already in so much trouble; I didn’t think it possible to make things worse by smoking in the Vantage. Besides if I smoked a cigarette maybe I could fight off that sickening feeling that I was five years old. I grabbed the pack and carefully unwrapped the cellophane.

John backed up a few steps stared me down and said “If you even think of lighting up in my car, I’ll beat your ass first. Understood?”

He waited until I shook my head in total fear and agreement. The day seemed to be moving through fucking molasses. A few minutes had passed. I looked down at the beach now where I could see Dave’s incredibly angry body language. John had one hand in his pocket as if two hands would over dramatize the situation. He used the other one in choppy angry slashes through the air. Dave just kept shakin’ his head. Every once in a while he’d look up at me in the car with a wild look I couldn’t make out from the distance I sat. But I knew I’d never seen that look from him before. I knew in my frightened heart that that wasn’t the only thing to be delivered to me that day.

I couldn’t even bare to think about what they were saying. I had suspected what John and Shar’s married life entailed regarding how they resolved issues. I felt like they were living in the 17th century and with my personality, I wanted no part of any of it. My prayers were that Dave would elevate himself above John’s sense of fuckin’ cowboy justice. I was pissed and scared. And I realized after nervously downing my energy drink that I really had to pee. I also knew I had to pee whenever I got very nervous. How was I supposed to sit in the car all morning? But I didn’t dare get out.

I put the cigarette in my mouth and moved the car into gangster lean position. I had to calm myself down. Fuck it I’d just take a nap, they’d been on the beach for five minutes. I figured the longer Dave took to shove aside John’s ideas, the better. I was lucky so far that Dave hadn’t ripped me out of the car and tried to spank me right there in the driveway in front of John and the surfers. I needed to shake off that possibility so I closed my eyes tight and focused on breathing.

Dave stood up after sitting on the cooler. He and John shook hands. Then John slapped him on the back. What could that possibly mean? I watched Dave walk forcefully and purposely toward the car. With each step Dave seemed to loom larger and I felt myself becoming tinier. I had never seen his expression before and panic set in. Would he break our engagement? Had I fucked things up irretrievably? I wasn’t prepared to pay that kind of price for my actions. I was hoping that he would see how remorseful I was. And maybe, just a little his face would soften as he approached me. My legs began to shake as he touched the door handle. I assumed his voice would sound angry, but it was gentle as he opened the passenger door for me.

“Don’t speak,” he said too calmly.

Now I started to shake all over. He didn’t need to say one word. He was one of those rare guys whose actions were other men’s words. And now it became too obvious to me what was coming next as John pulled up in the Advantage intercepting us before we got inside. John handed Dave a fucking paddle! I felt nauseous and wanted to bolt. I just kept looking down as Dave bid me to enter the beach house by opening the screen door. It was much cooler with the air conditioning and now I couldn’t hide my shaking. I could feel Dave boring holes in the back of my head but assumed he was also focusing on where he’d use John’s paddle. He took my left wrist and guided me upstairs. His grip made me feel guilty as hell. As he came up behind me on the stairs, he gently took my right wrist and then positioned both my wrists at the small of my back. I felt like I needed an orange jump suit based on my perceived control over my life the next few hours.

Once in the bedroom, He laid me over the bed. My shorts exposed way too much in this position. My fiancé appeared very natural while I was lost in my predicament. I didn’t know what to do with myself. In my stubborn mind I wasn’t resigned to submission. I had spent my whole life resisting the concept. Even though Dave was quietly in control of our relationship on a deep level, it usually didn’t come to the surface very often.

For some weird reason, I flashed forward to our upcoming wedding. I certainly had bridezilla potential and could see us tux, veil and paddle holding up the ceremony while Dave delivered a groom’s justice. Years after that I could picture Dave putting in a movie for our kids while he took their mommy upstairs so that she would be reminded that recording atm withdrawals in not optional when saving money is of the essence. As if Dave was inside my head sharing my visuals I heard him say,

“Julie I’ve known you your whole life and you make total sense of what I’m about to do.” I began to breathe fast, no make that pant and he hadn’t even touched me yet. I needed him to talk me through this, to help me understand how a grown woman could be face down on her vacation, a month before her wedding, awaiting what had to be a painful spanking. But I was realistic and knew I just wanted to delay what I was about to feel, as I watched him raise the paddle well above his head. He felt like a wall crashing on top of me.

Nothing could have prepared me for the incredible sting that resonated on my ass. I tried to escape from the bed based on shear instinct but Dave’s arm destroyed all hopes of my escape. Minimally I wanted my hands to protect me against the incoming blows. But I couldn’t move myself, not at all. Way to quickly the next ones came. The paddle was so fucking long both cheeks felt seared to my shorts. Fucking John, fucking Dave. I was furious now and began to try to move. I was going no where. I had no option. I had so somehow endure the incredible pain. I tried to talk my way out before the fifth strike came.

“Dave, please, I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again,” I ran it all together so fast and then wished I had more to say, thinking foolishly what I had to say would change his mind. I was so pissed and scared. Responding to my disobedience he landed a blow that made the others seem amateurish (and they weren’t)! I shrieked so forcefully the sound upset me. I was so physically jolted by that swat I vowed not to say another word. The cumulative effect was becoming very clear to me now.

“I told you Julie, NOT to speak!” He was too calm except for the word ‘not’. This was a first for me. I was always so competitive with Dave and others. I believed I would always come out on top. Humility was sorely lacking in my life. It was kind of like a light switch went on, or maybe it turned off; I’m not sure. I became less angry and more resigned to what I knew I had had coming to me for a very, very long time. As I began to cry I felt such a rush of relief. Everything was so slowed down and simple, despite the fact that my ass was a fireball. I had always been so manipulative with my behavior. And while I knew I’d think twice about it the next time after this lesson; more importantly I knew Dave would help me to be accountable to myself. The sense of knowing I’d no longer be allowed to grow in a wrong direction also made me cry. Then I began to sob and almost choke. After about twenty hard smacks with the paddle, Dave stopped, glanced peacefully at the paddle then said.

“This will be our first wedding present to each other.” We could feel the change in me. For the first time in my life I was finally submissive and stopped fighting against the paddle, against Dave, against my better judgment. I felt relieved and yet sad for all the years of acting so immaturely.

He let go of my wrists and set the paddle down on the bed at the same time. He turned me around and sat me down on his lap. You would’ve thought with the flow of his movements, we had done this a thousand times before. While I was amazed at this unrehearsed yet synchronized ballet, I was more amazed at how much it hurt to sit. I could feel his thighs; they were too hard beneath me. I felt like a fireplace radiating heat. My hair remained in front of my face. I wanted no eye contact. I felt so embarrassed that I had caused him to be this way with me. He pushed my hair away from cheeks and wiped the tears with his thumbs. He waited until my eyes met his. He waited a few seconds – it killed me. He leaned in to kiss me as if I’d never been kissed before. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. He seemed a bit tired based on the depth of his sigh. But as always it was challenging to know what he was thinking. But I knew he loved me enough to do what was right for me. As he began to kiss me more firmly I was surprised to find how much I wanted him.

We made love. Each time I moved a bit, I could feel the reminders of his welcomed power over me. And although it was different for us, John told me exactly what to do as we made love. (Usually I would be hopping all over the bed.) Then we napped. Later that night Dave insisted I “face the crowd” and of course I needed to apologize to John and Sharon. John put on Queen’s “Another one bites the dust.” I was demurely sitting next to Dave. Being quiet had never felt so good or safe. Taunting, John whispered in my ear,


“I played this for you!” Waiting maybe thirty seconds I leaned back into Dave’s shoulder listening to the waves roll back out to sea and watching the logs burn down. I said to Dave very quietly, “I want you to know I resisted calling John an asshole. Aren’t you proud of me?” He just chuckled and shook his head. While firmly patting my very sore behind, he said rhetorically, “Julie… how are we going to get you through this wedding?”

~o~

My thanks to Kaylynn. I hope she is well and happy and I hope she still writes. I'll post more of her work in the future. If you're willing to write for us send your story to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Fantasy Friday - On Julie's Beach with a Paddle

This story came to Fantasy Friday about nine years ago. The author was Kaylynn and she wrote a lot for us back then. Like most Fantasy Friday writers we've lost touch over the years, but I still have her writings to share. This is a great story, and it's a long one. In fact it came in two parts. Part two will be up tomorrow. I hope you enjoy...

ON JULIE’S BEACH WITH A PADDLE

Dave and I had planned our marriage for two years. We had known each other for almost twenty. He married a friend of ours from high school. She wasn’t right for him and I knew that from the start. Sadly but not unexpectedly they amicably divorced. Dave and Jan had had three gorgeous kids and I love them more each day, wishing they had been my own. Never marrying, I couldn’t find that guy who knew how to deal with my high energy level.

I lived with one guy for five years but he was drama prone and we weren’t comfortable sharing the spot light. I like to look back now and think I was waiting for Dave. He was and is still my Clint Eastwood, Steven Siegel, that wise and stoic figure who lets me exuberantly dance through life; yet imposes loving limits. My ability to figure out when enough is enough occurs somewhere between observers feeling massive annoyance and crowds demanding my public flogging! It was never as evident as the month before our wedding while vacationing with our life long friends.

August 2004 was the month before Dave and I were to be married and I knew I had the world by the tail. I breathed in the overconfidence with my waking breaths and was most likely hell on wheels by the afternoon hours. It took me fourteen years to finally get this guy! I was surfing the biggest wave of my life and nothing was going to stop my sense of sophisticated momentum.

At age 34 it was my first marriage, Dave’s second and that put me even more in the proverbial spotlight in my eyes. I was determined to handle it all with a dignified cool, but with my personality; it was a challenge. Plans had been adjusted time and again to suite each other in just the right areas. While I had wanted a two ring circus, Dave guided me toward just the one. While Dave needed a brief ceremony, I got him to compromise so I could include a poetry reading, flower girl and three bridesmaids. Things actually seemed to be in place. Shockingly my organizational skills were competent, given my propensity toward distraction. I managed to keep our wedding in good quiet taste given Dave’s personality, but managed to infuse my childhood dreams.

It was mid August and we were meeting John and Sharon and their three kids for a wonderful fifteenth annual vacation at the beach. I have always been silly around John. He has this repertoire of comedic characters that make me hysterical with laughter. We are opposite sex versions of each other. Dave finds us entertaining separately and totally out of the box when we are together. Sharon is tolerant, sweet and quieter than Dave, which seems impossible.

“Our” three kids are all close in age so it’s one big kid party. We keep in touch with a yearly vacation at a secluded beach at the end of an island. The ocean was on one side; the marsh was on the other. All year long, all of us think about our week together. With the knowledge that we’d all be together for the wedding in only two months, we were giddy with anticipation. The vacation just before the wedding seemed to have Dave in a particularly sated mood. We could feel his sense of calm. His best friend and future wife were filling the air with jokes and this week I thought everything was funny. John and I are our craziest in front of Dave and Sharon, our favorite audience.

When we do happen to be alone we are very respectful of each other; there are no personal agendas of any kind, except for John trying to help me grasp the marriage style between him and Sharon. Sometimes John pisses me off during our private talks and I’ll carry my anger back with the four of us. Very occasionally Dave will call me off John if he thinks I’m being disrespectful regarding John’s traditional value system. I’ve watched Sharon’s reaction to my comments regarding their marriage style and she’s always so cool and collected, as if she’s got some special perspective that makes all of it all right. I’ve assumed that Sharon’s clearly, yet quietly, on my side. Maybe I’m her vicarious emotional vacation. I could never picture Sharon getting away with my outspoken perspectives. I’ve always felt happy that Dave’s cool with my behavior. In fact he seemed very confident with our roles.

John is a no nonsense kind of guy when it comes to his expectations of women, kids and work subordinates. Maybe that’s why he lovingly tolerates me with humor one week each year. He gets a vacation from being ‘in charge and large’ as I tease him. I challenge him on his everyday thinking and make him laugh at himself. I’ve seen John really mad only twice in my life and I often wondered how Sharon and the kids managed after the vacation was over.

I never knew what exactly John and Sharon had going regarding problem solving. I just observed that they didn’t have power struggle issues. Things seemed simple, too simple for my needs. John would enjoy my discomfort as he discussed with me his ‘master of his realm lifestyle’. I would uncomfortably side step my way through those conversations hoping to change the topic. It was foreign for me to think that I wasn’t half in charge and under my own authority regarding my future marriage. Dave always treated me more than fairly, given my highly competitive nature and we had an easy relationship compared to most. But I will readily admit that I was constantly overstepping his boundaries and had it not been for Dave’s stoicism, I’d have been fodder for my fiancé’s sense of discipline a long time ago.

It was the day before our departure. We were well into our beach routines. Dave fishing, me writing, John jogging, Sharon and the kids on some morning outing. Dave yelled up to me from the walkway to go get John from a run. Apparently he had ‘broken down’. Sharon was too far away with an overcrowded car. Dave was not leaving the beach and missing his fishing. So I was the low woman on the totem pole and not happy about being disturbed. After all, I felt I was performing and productive.

Dave seemed oblivious to my frustration ready to become anger. Except that he spoke slowly to say that I’d have to use John’s new car. Looking back I can now recall that his voice carried a nonspecific unheeded warning. John’s knee was feeling older than his ego I thought as I left my writings. I was pissed having had a real flow going on a new story idea. Dave kindly yelled up to me,

“The keys are hanging on the…”

“Ya, I know”! I barked down to him. ‘On the back of the door’ I rudely cut him off, threw down my notebook and stomped toward their beach house.

I had to admit that at any other time I would’ve been excited to drive John’s Austin Martin V8 Vantage Roadster, but today I had told myself would be dedicated to writing. Tomorrow was last minute pictures and of course the dreaded fucking packing. I hated when I’d be forced to be organized. Dave had always insisted I bundle the dirty clothes into colors so we could quickly throw loads of laundry in while unpacking beach items from the car. I was just satisfied that I didn’t leave dirty clothes under my bed at the beach house!

I smiled grimly as I pictured John pissed that I’d be driving his car. He must’ve known Dave wouldn’t leave the beach to indulge his old track injury. John probably dreaded the thought of me riding his second favorite ride! He had barely let Dave drive it. Knowing Sharon the way I did I figured she’d be too afraid to drive it anyway. You know, really drive it, the way an Austin wants to be - no - needs to be driven.

Now the thing about me is I believe I can recover from disappointments pretty easily. In other words, I’m into the moment, but not necessarily looking ahead to the next moment. If I were to be inconvenienced, it would be my job to compensate for my own losses. My only chance to have fun was now. Deceiving myself and Dave, I calmly backed it out of their driveway. Dave kept looking up the beach house trying to glance at what he had to know was coming. He was always telling me that someday I’d hang myself with my long and tangled rope. I would occasionally answer under my breath ‘fuck you!’ in a spankable tone. Dave would respond in wisdom filled tone,

“Oh Julie, don’t you know what you’re getting’ yourself into?”
I would respond with an unknowing look complete with slightly furrowed brows.

John’s knee pain must’ve have been exorbitant if he thought that I’d calmly leave my writing and beach to come get his sorry yet cute ass. He mistakenly believed I’d be respectful of his aging vulnerability. But I had to feel a bit sorry for him. At my mercy he sat awaiting my arrival. I drove carefully to his waiting spot, getting the feel of his car. I didn’t want to give him what he expected: me flying into the parking lot on two wheels. No, I had already decided that would come just a bit later.

He grimaced and carefully walked on his left leg toward the passenger side. My smile got so wide it was obviously bordering laughter. He pointed a naughty finger wave through the windshield at me as if to say, ‘you had best curb your delight in my pain young lady’. I held back Niagara Falls force words as I let him settle into the passenger seat. But I just couldn’t help myself.

“John,” I calmly and quietly stated, “if you want to put your balls in the glove box while I ride you home in the passenger seat, I promise, that when I do put the car up on two wheels in the curve; I’ll put it down easy for you!”

Oh I was so proud of that blindsiding, funny comment. Laughing hard I couldn’t even look over at his face; I knew it was too perfect a moment but I had to be careful as he was staring at the road – making quality assessments of my every movement, really trying hard to ignore the massive insult I’d just flung his way.

A few seconds later I heard in a quiet tone equally the hum of the engine, “You know,” contemplatively, “Dave really needs to beat your ass!”

“Ya, him and what army?” flew out of my mouth immediately.

Shaking his head he threatened, “At some point Julie, you’ll take responsibility for your actions and heed the consequences.”

“Geez John, give it a rest, will ya? Your pain has gripped your serious side. I’ll have you know that I dragged myself away from writing on the beach to come get your sorry ass. The only good part is I get to drive your Vantage. Can you save your caveman crap for this afternoon when I’ve been able to down at least two margaritas?” I tried to retrieve the delivery with a bit of a dry laugh, but my message was clear.

“Speaking of consequences lets stop at the drug store and I’ll run in and grab you a first aid ice bag. Sharon and the kids will be back in about an hour and you can get a jump start on reducing the swelling. You’ll want to appear less old around our teens with testosterone. Remember, they smell weakness!” He needed ice but wasn’t welcoming my sense of control.

I parked the car and ran inside. I quickly grabbed an ice bag, bottle of acetaminophen two energy drinks and a pack of cigarettes for me. Tossing the bag carefully on John’s lap, I carefully proceeded to back out. John was acting like a frickin’ owl twisting his head this way and that making sure I wasn’t going to hit a pole or pedestrian. I rolled my eyes and John caught my expression. “Look John, I’ve never even had a speeding ticket…. Lighten up! Get that aspirin down your throat already; you’re making your driver grumpy.”

He snorted, “Well the speeding ticket is long overdue, I’ve watched you drive. What does Dave say about your ‘need to speed’?”

“Why does my behavior always have to rest on someone else’s perspective? Do we talk about how Sharon feels about your incessant need to control the family?” Now it was John’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Sharon and I have an agreement”, he said tersely.

“Oh God, if you ever fill Dave in on this scheme, I swear I’ll key your car! Please tell me it’s more complex than the “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” ‘head of the household thing’. God John, give it up already, I’m not drinking margaritas yet remember! Is all this fatherly bullshit because you’re walking me down the aisle? Oh wait I get it. You feel like my dad because I’m driving your car. This is like teaching and trusting your girls how to drive. I am clear now. You want to keep the conversation focused on my behavior hoping I’ll drive your precious car with controlled dignity. Then and only then will you calm yourself into tolerating this painful ride home with me.” I rambled on barely taking a breath.

“Well here’s the deal John, you are the passenger, you are injured, you have to suck it up and be at my mercy, while I drive your pristine car – so fuckin’ get over it!” I belted out the last phrase with musical deliverance.

As a turned my head to enjoy his pained expression, then follow up with a drilling gaze into his dark eyes, I could see his expression change from fuming to fear. In the left lane I was speeding through a busy intersection I went through a pink light. Some asshole turned left in front of me. Inwardly I cringed at my blaming attitude toward the other driver, because many times I had used the same technique to make an impossible left turn where there was no arrow. As I jammed my foot on the brakes I veered the car to the left just barely avoiding hitting the turning car. Fortunately we stayed within the intersection mostly in the south bound lanes complete with smoking tires and newly blackened lines in the intersection.

I sat there shocked. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Looking into the other car I could see a young guy glaring at me. And while I knew he should not have turned into my oncoming car, I also knew he assumed I would stop as the light was almost red and I was speeding and not paying attention. I also quickly wanted to choke myself because my last lucid moments were so filled with my being an utter smartass and I felt ashamed. I could’ve injured John, the other driver. I went into a mental tailspin. And yet could only sit there feeling shock and disdain. Reacting John threw open up the door, stood up and hopped up on his right leg.

“You ok?!” he yelled with urgency.

“Ya” came back in an angry tortured sounding growl. “Your wife needs to understand that around here we don’t run red lights going 95 mph!” His southern drawl delivered the ‘control your fucking wife’ message loud and clear.

“Believe me when I tell you, this will get handled as soon as we get home.” John sounded so far removed from me I couldn’t stand it. I was all alone with my stupidity, dangerous lack of judgment and guilt.

To be continued...

I'll have part two up at midnight!