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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Sunday, April 26, 2015

This isn’t a complete update

I will tell you there’s been a little talking, a little spanking, and some excellent loving.  I sent him an email telling him I felt I’d made a mistake in asking him to stop our once a week deal, but I didn’t know how to take it back.

I asked him to go read the post Katie put up on her site, The List Concept

This is what I told him I needed from him:

What do I need from you?

  •   I’d love to reinstate the once a week – we can work on the timing. I love this for the reconnection.
  •  Work with me to have a few rules we can both be serious about. (I don’t do well with encouragement, offers of rewards, any of the usual things – but sometimes just telling myself I have to stick to the rule or there will be a serious/punishment spanking. It’s just something I do mentally, but if you’re there to enforce it’s been known to work.)
  • Ask me how I’m feeling sometimes – it’s hard to open up and sometimes I do need an invitation. A little email or text would do.

I added one more, but that's between me and him!

And I gave him the follow promises:

  •   I won’t turn down a spanking unless I’m actually sick. (But as any self-respecting spanko would, I’ll balk, complain, tell you I don’t need/deserve one and mildly try to talk you out of it. It’s what we do.)
  •   I won’t forget First Weekend. (And sometimes some hot sex may follow some weekly sessions at your request or at mine, not all of them, but some.)
  •   If you really want me to I’ll try to communicate more. (You have asked for an email a week in the past. Think about what you want – that might me too much.)

I added, I love you – I’m excited and scared, but that’s better than being depressed and bored. We have no timetable, but at least we talking and thinking.

I hope we’ll do more talking – and doing it by email works fine for me. I know I communicate better that way. He did ask a few things about the ‘list’ and I hope he will ask more. I will never convince myself he wants to hear what I have to say and it does help when he tells me specifically to email him.  I hope we won’t stop here.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Fantasy Friday - Keep Me Accountable

It's been a long week here.  I'm so happy we've arrived at Friday again! Even better than that we have another brand new Fantasy Friday story. This story come to us from a fairly new blogger. I ask her to share a little with us about herself - 

My name is Adrienne Cecil, wife to my wonderful hubby, Jeremiah. We have been married six years and have two preschoolers. We live in the deep south where we are already sweating this time of year.

We are quite new to the DD/Ds/spanking thing. I stumbled across the DD lifestyle kind of by accident a couple months ago and, while reading the blogs, realized that such a lifestyle is something I'd wanted for most of my adult life. I presented the idea to Jeremiah, and he agreed to try spanking and D/s but is more hesitant about DD. I started a blog to be a type of diary for me in our new journey: Classical Marriage in a ModernWorld.

Keep me Accountable 

Lilly swept through the kitchen, grabbing pans and ingredients.  I am so late!  Dinner should have been on the table an hour ago, but Josiah’s doctor’s appointment had gone long, and on the way home, the highway had been a parking lot.  Apparently, a tractor trailer had somehow spewed its load of logs all over the road.  She had sat in traffic for nearly an hour before being redirected to a detour utterly unfamiliar to her. Blast it.  Why does the only pediatric nephrologist in the area have to be 50 miles away? At least she had her GPS unit, but by mile twenty-five, Josiah, Isaiah, and Emily had exhausted all the snacks she had brought and were hungry, tired, and irritable by the time she pulled the minivan into their garage. 

As she banged and clanged the pans all over the kitchen, she continued her pity party in her head.  As if all that were not enough, now her boys were fighting over some stupid toy.  “Isaiah! Don’t hit your brother!” She snarled.

Annoyed, she became aware of a tugging on her shirt; four-year-old Emily was always underfoot when Mama was in the kitchen.  Grr.  “What, Emily?” she demanded sharply. Suddenly, Lilly and the little girl were startled by a piercing shriek.  The smoke detector.  I swear I’m going to rip that stupid thing off of the wall. Oh! Oh! My oil is on fire in the pan!
As the contraption continued to wail, Emily put her hands over her ears and tried to bury her head in her mother’s leg.  Lilly grabbed for the lid to the skillet but nearly tripped over her daughter.  “Move Emily!” Lilly screeched impatiently, pushing the little girl away from her leg and grabbing the lid for the skillet, “Get out of here, now.”  When Emily did not move quickly enough, Lilly snapped at her, “Emily! Now!”  Emily ran from the room, tears streaming down her silken cheeks. 

Oh! That screeching noise is going to make me crazy.  I’ve got to shut that thing off.  Lilly turned to reset the offending smoke detector, but she realized that the fire still flamed in the pan.

From behind she felt the pan lid being pulled away from her.  She yanked the lid back and whirled on the interloper, “Emily!” she yelled, “I told you to . . .”  Instead of her daughter, her husband stood behind her.  He gave Lilly a look and took the lid from her hand.  Gulp.  Within seconds, Eric had set the lid on the pan to squelch the flames, shut off the burner, turned on the vent hood fan, and reset the smoke detector, all without a word.  The expression on his face was inscrutable.  Lilly felt her anger and frustration giving way to guilt.  She tried to hang on to the anger, using it as a protective shield, but to no avail. 

As Eric led the kids upstairs, settling them in front of an episode of Barney, Lilly continued to stand in exactly the same spot she had when Eric had materialized behind her.  She could not bring herself to move.  She saw the scene of the past ten minutes replaying in her mind’s eye and realized how out of control she had been.  Tears of regret welled in her eyes, and she wanted to crumple to the floor and sob.  Why, oh why, do I let that temper get the best of me every single time? 

Returning to the kitchen, Eric took her arm and led her toward their bedroom.  Lilly panicked.  “Eric, I . . .”  He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  During punishment, she was required to call him Sir.  “I mean, Sir, I’m sorry.  I have just had a really frustrating afternoon.  I didn’t mean to scream at the kids.  Please, Sir, I will be more careful.”

As they reached the bedroom door, Lilly began to pull her arm away, but Eric’s grip tightened.  “Lilly,” he warned. 

“The kids are upstairs alone,” she tried. 

“The kids will be fine for a few minutes.” 

“Dinner is already late,” she said, pulling away again. “I really need . . .”

Eric cut her off with a glare. “To submit,” he finished for her.

Lilly sighed but obeyed.  She knew that resisting would only make her punishment worse.  Eric closed the door behind them and turned on their television, turning the volume way up.  Oh, no.

Eric moved to a straight-backed chair and motioned for Lilly to join him.  “Come here, Lilly.” 

Trembling, she moved to stand before her Sir.  “Why are you about to be punished?”

Ugh! I wish he would just lecture me.  I hate these questions. “I yelled at the kids.”


Lilly did not want to admit to the loss of control of her ever-present temper.  “I burned dinner?” She said hopefully.

Her Sir was not amused.  “Why are you being punished, Lilly?”  He repeated pointedly.

Lilly looked at her feet.  Although she knew that she had done wrong, admitting it seemed so difficult.  “My temper.”

“Say it, Lilly.”

Lilly knew what he meant.  Her answer had skated around admitting wrongdoing.  He wanted a confession.  She sighed, and her shoulders sagged.  Gathering her courage, she said, “I was frustrated and angry.  I lost my temper and took out my frustrations on the kids.”

“We have talked about your temper, Lilly.  Raising your voice in anger to the children or anyone else is unacceptable behavior.”  Eric said.  When she stole a glance at his face, Lilly noted that his expression, like his voice, was calm but unmistakably disapproving.

“Yes, Sir.”  Again she felt the urge to crumple to the floor in a sobbing heap.  She had hurt her sweet little Emily’s feelings and had disappointed her beloved husband.  I wish I could do better.  I hate hurting my family. Crap.  I deserve to have my rear set on fire.  Just the thought made her shudder.

“You’ve asked me to keep you accountable about that temper, and I promised that I would.”  Eric paused.  Lilly realized that she was holding her breath.  Finally, he said, “Go get my paddle and come kneel.”

A shiver went through Lilly’s gut.  Her “yes, sir” was barely audible.  The paddle?  I can’t handle more than a few swats with that wicked thing.  The two times that Sir had used the paddle, she had been unable to keep still and had even reached back on one occasion.  At least a paddling tends to be done far more quickly than a hand spanking.  Slowly, Lilly moved to the closet and stretched up to the shelf above her, wrapping her hand around the thick, wooden implement.  She pulled it down and walked hesitantly back across the room.  She noticed that he had opened his legs to have her kneel between them. 

It took a heartbeat for realization to dawn: He’s going to hold me down!  Her breathing became ragged, and she wanted to run the other way.  Her mind began a pep talk.  I was the one who wanted this life.  I asked him to punish me harshly for my temper.  Somehow, remembering those things did not make her feel any better.  She forced one foot in front of the other until she stood again at Sir’s knee.  She willed her arm to move forward to hand her Sir the instrument of her punishment.  Taking the paddle, he waited expectantly.  Closing her eyes, Lilly heaved a sigh and sank to her knees between his legs.

“Eric,” she whimpered, “I’m scared.” She looked at him with tears already tracking down her face.
Eric did not correct her break in protocol.  Instead, he kissed her head.  “I know,” he said gently.  He reached down to the waistband of her jeans and began to tug both them and her panties down around her thighs.  Lilly shuddered and put her hands over her face, crying harder.  As he guided her over his left knee and closed his right leg over her legs, he said, “But you know you can always trust me.”
Lilly sniffed and moved her hands to the floor in front of her.  “Yes, Sir. I know.”


Adrienne, this is a wonderful story! Thank you so much, you can write for us anytime! 
I sure hope there are others out there writing too. Please send your stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

You're so kind.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Now what do I do?

Wednesday was an interesting day. When Nick and I both got home from work yesterday we got to talking about Mollie. I was say that I didn’t know whether to keep harassing her to get on with sending out her resumes, to try to talk to schools, to make the appointment she needs with her doctor – or do I just back off, knowing she’s a smart kid and assume she’ll do all she needs to do. I was telling him that as a mom, I just didn’t know whether to push or back off.

Nick gave me an absolutely annoying grin as he ask, “You mean you can’t read her mind?” Being a brat I answered, “Maybe if I’d been married to her for thirty years I could – or if she would just write a blog telling me everything she was thinking!” It was a laughing /teasing moment, but we both knew we were actually talking.

When I got around to checking my email a few minutes later, Nick had sent me one. It was a good email. I have no idea why he continues to put up with me, but he does. And he asked me to talk to him. I want to, but lately I’m probably more confused than he is. I ask him to give me a little time to get my thoughts sorted and then I promised I’d be back with him soon.

Now what do I do? Do I know what I want? Can I explain it so he’ll understand? Hell, can I explain it so that I’ll understand? I’m going to try. Hold a good thought for me – us.

Monday, April 20, 2015

The invisible elephant

I haven’t been posting too much lately and several of you have emailed asking if everything’s okay. The answer is yes, everything’s fine. But as far as TTWD, I don’t think we do anymore. I’m aware this could change, we’ve often gone back and forth, but nothing is going to happen until one of us addresses this huge elephant in the room and as far as I know the elephant is invisible to Nick. It’s my place to say something, I’m the one who called a halt to our Fridays, I could ask him to start back, but I’m not sure I have another rally in me.

Neither of us is mad. We’re back to being the best roommates in the world. We speak nicely, we laugh, we cuddle in bed – but we don’t talk, we don’t seem to have any interest in what the other is thinking or feeling. It’s roommates all the way.

I can’t blame Nick – he’s a man, talking, discussing feelings is not something he’s good at. He never has been and honestly I’m not great at in myself unless I have a keyboard to go through. It can be a tedious way to communicate.

I want the closeness we had when I first came out. I want that excitement of looking at one another in a crowed and grinning – knowing we had a special secret shared only between us. I want the sexual desires I had then. I want the hope and excitement for what could come.

I also want to be left alone and not have to try to explain myself. It’s much easier being roommates.

Geeze this sounds depressing – and I’m not depressed. I’m fine, not wildly happy, but just fine.

Friday, April 17, 2015

Fantasy Friday - Talk To Me

You cannot believe how happy I am that Friday has finally rolled around again. It was a long week trying to get back into the swing of things after a wonderful vacation. But the end it almost in sight and that's always exciting.

We have another brand new story today! Today's story in from a new friend, Bloom. Bloom is from Asia and although she is not currently in a spanking relationship, like many of us she says she fantasies a lot. She says writing is her hobby so I really hope we'll be hearing more from her. For today please enjoy…

Talk To Me

I stared at the screen of LCD, not really watching the movie , just lost in my own world, and I could tell that Brandon was doing the same. My thoughts were clouded, I am angry, because I feel like he doesn't care. I am scared because he had the power. He could force it out of me, he could force me to tell him what the problem was and I knew this was exactly what he'd do. 

I had it in my mind that I won't surrender. He had to know it himself. How can he feel like its all fine? How can he think that I'm having no problem at all with him gone for all day long, sometimes week long on stupid business trips? Even thinking about it made me feel infuriated, but what did he care?
 I felt him shift beside me, probably he was facing me now. But I won't talk to him. Just like I didn't when he came back yesterday from his two days trip from Seattle.

"I'm going to ask you once more Emily Roberts. What is the problem?"
His tone was firm.
His voice deep , like it had always been, when I first met him in bar, when he first took me to date. 
I moved in with him after we engaged. I didn't move in with the furniture. I needed him, to be with me, to give me time, attention, care. But these all were consumed by his work load. He has numerous workers in his firm, yet he never comes home before 10 at night. 
Its been going on for over 3 weeks now. Before this at least he was home early, at least once a while he stayed home, at least he didn't go to business trips twice a week. Still he wants me to tell him what is wrong. 

I try to keep my voice neutral as I answer him. "It’s nothing."
I know I'm being tough. But he needs to use his mind. 
I hear him sigh as he switches off the LCD. Anger bubbles inside me, the urge to fight and argue with him stronger than ever. 
I face him, "I was watching!" I say with a slight raise in my voice.

"No, you were lost in thoughts. I studied you for fifteen minutes your eyes didn't flicker. You kept staring at one spot." 

"Why were you staring at me like a creep?" I knew I was pushing him. Though I didn't know why. Maybe it was just the brat inside me. The brat who didn't get its dose for a long while now.

"Language, Emily. And because I was trying to think why are you behaving like this."

"There's nothing wrong with my behavior," I argue, refusing to look at him. I know he hates it when I don't look in his eyes. I know he'll be able to comprehend if he looks deep into me. This is exactly how he came to know yesterday that I was angry.
He was gentle in trying to know what is bothering me, but I didn't give it away. I kept making it harder and harder. Now I think he'll do what he does when he thinks I really need to be put in place.
His ideas of punishing me depend upon my crime. Testing his limits is something I never did before. 

"In the corner." He says sternly. He knows I'll do it all day if he doesn't take any action. I show no signs of surrender as I walk and stand there , facing the wall. It’s a rule not to have anything waist down once I'm in corner so I pull my jeans and panties waist down. I blush a little at the exposure, but I keep chanting don't give up like my personal mantra.
I stare at the cream coloured wall, a little voice in my head keeps telling me its not going to end up good. Not for my bottom. But I keep pushing that voice away. 

I hear him go towards the kitchen. Maybe to eat something? But at 3 in afternoon, and just after an hour of lunch, why'd he eat something? Maybe to drink water, I tell myself.
After some time I hear him come back. I can feel his eyes , on me, on the bottom I'm sure he'll soon turn red. 
I gulp, now planning to give up but then I think its too late.

"Come here." He says and I walk towards him, keeping my hands in front of me so as to cover my modesty, but what’s the point? I know soon I won't be bothering to contain my dignity. 

"Over my lap," he says calmly. Now I panic but I can't make it harder for myself.
I lay down and wait. I squirm uncomfortably as his hand roam across my bottom. My face is getting hot. This is embarrassing.
"Hmm, you want me to force it out of you, don't you?" He asks, tapping my bottom and re-adjusting it as it is jutting out.
"You know I expect answers, but let me get rid of this behaviour, maybe then you'll see the light." By the end of this sentence he smacks my bottom hard. 
I raise my head and clench my teeth, preparing myself for the wrath of Brandon's steel like hand.
I try my best to keep my mouth shut but five smacks later I yell "Ow."
He isn't moving to my left bottom cheek and it’s worrying me.
"Eouch!!" My feet kick a bit. Why is he not moving to other spots? I want to tell him to move but I know he will do just what he wants to.
"Oh God!" I gasp as the burn in my bottom is now becoming intolerable.
He doesn't stop and keeps spanking me. He really is spanking me hard and fast. My bottom dances on his lap but his blows never miss.
"Ahhhh!" I cry out. My butt cheek feels like it is on fire. And the pain never settles in because he never gives it a break!

"Ok ok! I'm sorry!" I yell. If this can make him stop then so be it!
To my utter disappointment, he continues.
I kick my legs furiously, wiggling and squirming "Oh please!" I plead but it falls on deaf ears.
"Brandon! I - I mean sir!" I gasp "Ouch! I'm sorry!"

"Not much arrogant, are you now?" He teases. 
"Oh my! It burns!" I cry and tears spill on my cheeks.
"You look better now, with a red ass cheek and much better behaviour." He says pulling me up.
Is it over? I don't ask though, I feel so embarrassed. "Kneel down on the sofa." He instructs and I gulp, my mind racing with what he can he be thinking of doing.
I reluctantly get on the sofa, one of my ass cheek still on fire and begging me to rub it,  but I know better and so I resist.
"I - I'll be good now." I say, scared for my life and trembling a little as I get into position and feel him parting my ass cheeks.
"Sshh." Is all he says.

"Please sir." I try once more trying to look over my shoulder.
I feel a tip of something cool on my butt hole. This can't be what I think this is. "Oh no," I say desperately, wiggling my bum.

He smacks it hard, "Sit still!" He says, his voice raised.
Tears sting in my eyes "Please don't!" I mumble. "I'm sorry. Please please!"
He pushes the ginger in and takes a step back to admire his work.
Do you know how humiliating it is to have a ginger in your half red ass? Very much!
"Fuck!" I say , not really realizing that it slipped from my mouth. My hand flies to my mouth "Oh no." I mutter.
One thing you must know when with a guy like Brandon, he doesn't tolerate swearing.

"I'll make sure to punish you nicely my little girl, for being such a brat." He says walking away and leaving me in misery.

"It was slip of tongue Brandon!" I cry out. The pain is too much "Oh please, please come back! Please take it out!" I shout and start crying harder.
"I'm sorry," I say even though I know he is not here but when he come back, my heart sinks. He's carrying a soap.

"Open." He orders but I shake my head, I'm in much pain already.

"I'll behave! I'll be super good!" I say, my legs kicking to manage the pain.
He stands there looking at me. He knows I'll do anything to make him get the ginger out and by not complying I'm prolonging my own misery.
I open my mouth and he places the soap in "Bite it and keep it in." He says.
I obey and watch him as he moves behind me. He sits somewhere. I know he must be watching me as I move my bottom left to right and up down to manage the furious pain.
"Now since you can't answer me back with that smart mouth of yours, I'll give you two options. Either you tell me what’s been bothering you after you take a hand spanking for your right butt cheek and then get a hair brush spanking after I take the ginger out or, you can have the ginger inside you while you get punished and stand in corner until you decide to spill the beans."

I know what my answer is. "Now go rinse your mouth and in meanwhile, decide what you want." He tells me and I immediately make a run for bathroom. But the bloody ginger is even more painful while walking.
I come back a few minutes later. I rinsed my mouth thoroughly and quickly so as to get it over with the punish but I still feel the bad taste in my mouth.

"Um. " I start , I know he expects me to ask for my punishment "Please sir, punish me till you think I've learned my lesson." I say staring at ground and watching as two tears slip from my face.

"Very well. Come here."
I take baby steps towards him. Fearing the spanking and trying to tolerate the ginger.
He starts as soon as I'm on his lap, his hand is now concentrating on my right cheek. I babble apologies and keep sobbing.
"This is SMACK SMACK for being SMACK so SMACK adamant SMACK SMACK SMACK and bratty SMACK SMACK."

"Yeowwww! I'm AHHH so-sorry!" I shout. I kick but it brings a spasm of pain from my butthole.
Finally he stops , he opens my cheeks and takes out the burning ginger from it. I swear I never felt so relieved as I did then
But to my sheer horror, he places the wooden brush on my hot bum.
"No, no please!" I beg. "I'll never do it again! Promise!" I start crying even harder but it has no effect on him.
He raises and brings the brush on my bottom hard.
"Will you ever swear again?"  He asks continuously whacking my already sore and sorry bottom.

"No sir," I hardly get it out "Ahhh!" I yell.
"Will you be a naughty little girl again?"

"No no. I'll be good!" I say and add, "Please, sir."
He knows answering is so hard during spanking yet he keeps asking questions. 

"Please, more?" He teases.

"No no! Please st- Ahhh!"

"Of course you can have more," he says making me cry out even more.
"This is exactly how frustrated I felt when you didn't give me straight honest answers." He says making ne duck my head in shame.
 "I'm so Oww sorry."

"I know you are. Just last ten for reminder," he says.
He smacks on my thighs and my leg moves up due to pain "Leg down!" He orders and smacks harder.

"Oww please! I- I'm try - Eouch! Trying."

"Have you learned your lesson now?" he asks and I nod "Y-yes sir," I sob.

He pulls me into his lap, "I hated to do this. And I wouldn't have to if you weren't being a bad girl."

"I'm sorry," I say. "Please forgive me."

"I do baby girl. I care about you.”
"You do?" I cut him off, pushing back from his chest to look up at him. 
The movement causes my bum to burn more and he notices as I wince.
He angles my bum in air. "Of course sweetheart. That’s why I just punished you."

"But I need your time also." I say.

"I'm trying to do as much work as I can so we can easily go on our honeymoon." He says making me frown.
 "Why didn't you tell me before?" I say with slight irritation. My pliable attitude is still there.

"I did. Don't you remember?" he asks.


"When you were on your cell phone a couple of weeks ago searching for best honeymoon spots and I told you that being a CEO means a lot of work load and if we want a nice honeymoon, you'll have to compromise for a month and that I'll be very busy. You also replied with a yes."

"Oh God it totally slipped my mind." My eyes are wide. Of course he told me this! I was too busy to pay attention.

"This was what it was all about?" He says a bit angrily.

"Eh. Kinda." I sheepishly say. 

"I so want to put that ginger back in." He threatens.

"Sowie." I say in baby voice and rest my head on his strong chest , "You know I often get too indulged in doing something. I didn't pay much attention to what you said that day."

He sighed. 

"I'm sorry," I say with my chin clamped to my chest.

"So what place did you like the most for our honeymoon?" He asked and I knew I was forgiven.

Thank you Bloom! This was a great story and I really do hope you'll be willing to write more for us. We have  more new stories to come, but we can always  use more so it you're willing to write one please send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com