TBT - A Day to Remember

* For those worrying about Ronnie, she's fine. Just a computer glitch and she'll be back soon.

I first posted the in July, 2008. Nick was out of work at the time and I'm happy to say that instead of this being a strain on our marriage, it brought us closer together. The title is very appropriate.


Its summer time and I am enjoying mind to the fullest. Nick and I decided to go to the mountains Monday morning. It was a beautiful day. We drove a couple of hours and pulled into an overlook with a view that was out of this world. Strangely, we were the only ones at this lovely spot. Looking around we saw a beautiful meadow on the other side of the road. It was fenced with barbed wire but on further inspection we found a small gate and took off up a grassy path.

Near the top of the hill was a rocky out crop – interesting – we could stand behind it and see most of the meadow as well as the road and the parking lot and our car parked all alone, but no one could really see us. Hmmmm…

Nick came up behind me and asked if I was ready to pay. Pay? Pay for what? It seems that I have not been keeping up with my assignments for the past few weeks. Well maybe I haven’t but geeze, I’ve been busy. And we have been together most of the time. Okay maybe that doesn’t mean he knows what I have been thinking all the time but still.

So here we are out in the beautiful outdoors and he is in the mood to spank (thank goodness). I looked behind us and saw some wicked black berry brambles with big thorns.


I laughed and said, “As long as you don’t use those!” He says, “Oh that reminds me!” and takes off towards the woods. I have to tell you that there are few sights more endearing than that of your husband, the man you have been married to for a quarter of a century, trotting across a meadow to get a switch.

Oh by the way, switches suck! He started over my shorts and that little thing stung like hell which didn’t seem to slow him down any. The shorts came off next and he used his hand a while but then went back to that darn switch! I was doing the, ‘Oh crap that hurts’ spanking dance by this time. But soon the panties were around my ankles. He used his hand again and then that darn switch! I swear I think he changed to the blackberry with thorns somewhere in there. When he finally stopped with the switch I heard him taking off his belt. Now I think of the belt as my friend but my bottom was hot! That didn’t stop Nick any. He made that belt whistle! Soon he stopped and started rubbing. We took another peek over the rock. It seemed as though the world was spread out before us – we could see forever, and there wasn’t a soul in site.

Nick spread out our towel and I had the pleasure of kneeling in front of him – a very submissive feeling. I thanked him in the best way I knew how and he seemed to think I was on the right track for sure. One more quick look around to assure that we were completely alone and I lay on the towel for even more fun. After a few minutes Nick told me to get on my hands and knees. We were both half dressed and getting tangled when Nick’s foot got caught in my panties which were at that time residing around my ankles. He muttered “How did I get in your panties?” I couldn’t help laughing. I kinda thought that that had been the whole point!

We did untangle and the fun continued. I like doggie style and all these sensations were hitting me at once. The sun, the rough ground, the gently breeze, my stinging bottom, the overall risk and of course, my wonderful Nick all rolled into one. I will have to say this is a day I am going to remember.

I wonder if Mollie would enjoy another week at camp.

Nick Tries for the Third Time and Fails Again

I’ve told you how sweet Nick can be. That’s very true but he does have this bad habit of trying to kill me. He tried again this past weekend. 

His first attempt was back in July of 2014. We took a cruise and before we got on the ship he decided we should rent scooters and look around St. Augustine. That ended in both Nick and me wrecking (I’m sure his accident was purely to cover up the murder attempt.)  This attempt failed and while he ended up with a dislocated shoulder, I ended up sliding on the asphalt and leaving a good part of my leg there. 

I didn’t think of it as a murder attempt at the time. But after he tried again it got me thinking.

The second attempt came a year later, July of 2015. Nick asked me to go on a hike to a water falls. How far?  was my suspicious question. Only about a mile I was told. So, okay, off we went. I soon found out Nick’s mile and mine were vastly different. It was horrible – steep, rocky, roots everywhere. But I continued to follow him like a good wife. 

My guess was twenty to thirty miles later we reached the falls. Not much of a damn falls for the fifty miles we’d just hiked! Then it dawns on me that we have to hike back out. Coming out was closer to seventy-five miles and at one point I simply lay down on the rocky path to rest. Folks, let’s just say – it wasn’t pretty.

This is me on the bridge, hoping to live

Two attempts failed and I kinda hope he’d given up trying to kill me. Last Saturday I suggested breakfast in the mountains and he thought it would be a fine idea and that maybe we could see another falls while we were up there. I gave him a glare, to which he replied, “Don’t worry, it’s not nearly as far as that other falls and it downhill both ways, I promise.” Remembering the he estimate to the last falls I realized he wasn’t above lying.

This was part of the hike

I had hiked to this falls before – I’d even done it with Eve, back in the days of her blogging. But my knees were ten years younger then. Obviously, I lived to tell the tell. So the man failed again. Yes, the falls was lovely, but not worth the trek to me. We’re planning a trip out west this fall – do I dare get out of the car while we’re there?

The rest of our Saturday was lovely. We sat our chairs by a mountain lake and read and napped in the sun with a gentle breeze blowing over us. That part of the day was so good it reminded me of another day we spent in the mountains about ten years ago – he wasn’t trying to kill me that day, unless being on cloud nine counts. You’ll need to come back for TBT this week and I'll tell you all about it.

Fantasy Friday - In the Heat of the Moment

I'm so excited to be able to offer you all a new Fantasy Friday story today! And I'm delighted to tell you it's from one of our own. With a little gentle prodding (you all know I'd never be pushy!), Windy from When the Storm Whispers to the Wind has written a wonderful story for us and one I feel most of us can relate to. Please enjoy...

In the Heat of the Moment

For fifty thousand dollars, starting in 1978, tv land guests visited this vacation spot called Fantasy Island.  The sound of stringed instruments hummed, buzzed, and zinged through the introduction of a breathtaking view of sand and surf while

a short statured pudgy fellow would excitedly ring the bell in the island’s tower and loudly declare, “De Plane!  De Plane!”  While this visual foreword was almost better than the show itself, we don’t fantasize of being on an exotic island hosted by Ricardo Montalban and Tattoo sporting matching white tuxedos.  Storm and I just want the privacy within our own home and the freedom to make the voice of any room we want to echo with the sharp sound of spanking and then to smell like sex, our sex -- his own unique scent that I love mixed with mine.  For free. 

My husband and I both look forward to the time when we have consistent privacy within our home.   During the day for no reason other than his own viewing pleasure and in demonstration of my submission to him, he tells me, “You will be naked a lot.” Will I?  My breath hitches in surprise. I can hear his voice rumble, “I want you to take off your clothes for a while.”   As attentive as he is to my needs, both sexual and otherwise, he will say things like, “Are you cold?  Do you need to put on your robe for a bit?” When I am wearing the robe with nothing on underneath, he will call me over to his office, untie my belt, open it and take a look, a feel, and draw certain body parts into his mouth. All just because my Storm is the king of his castle and I am his naked Windy wench. 

Just the idea of being naked while I am preparing his food in the kitchen feels very submissive to me. Chopping various vegetables while enjoying the visual display of greens, reds, and yellows, their scents and spices and the rhythmic melody of the silvery knife striking and sliding along the wooden cutting board, he hears me from his home office.  I know he will be looking at me a lot even though he is working at his computer. Occasionally, I catch him eyeing my breasts. As I am aging, this continues to surprise me -- that his keen interest in my body remains on high alert. Wishing it was an imminent threat, I listen as he tells me of his plans, “Your ass will be pink a lot, too.” Oooh, Will it? Instinctively like the happily spanked woman that I am, I reach my hand back, place it on my rear, and I can almost feel the steam radiating off its surface already. 

When we have an argument, I want him to be able to spank me in the heat of the moment instead of him giving me a hand signal that I have just earned myself a spanking to take place later at some appointed time. When I have pushed him too far, I want him to march me in the bedroom, bare my bottom and deliver the spanking right then!! I am not saying that I want to make him mad on purpose just to earn a spanking. Hooks are for baiting, not husbands, especially sweet ones. Arguments happen though, frustration builds, and things get said that shouldn’t be said by me.  I often get agitated at things that don't bother him at all, so if he sees that I am pushing it, I want him to enforce what we have agreed upon previously when I was in both a calm and sane frame of mind and I want him to spank me when I am losing that mind. Each sharp slap starkly revealing clues as to where I put my brain and if I don’t know where it is after a while, I will definitely be in bigger hurry to capture it, let it bathe itself in Endorphins, invite its sisters Dopamine and Norepinephrine to dive in, and calm down. But, I do wonder -- will I submit in that very moment when I haven’t yet resolved my emotions or the argument with him? That’s my plan. Will it change our dynamic? I’d bet 50 bucks on it becoming much more powerful as the result of my husband tanning my hide in the heat of the moment because I have agreed ahead of time to his exercising his authority over me. While thinking about being spanked in that circumstance as things are still upsetting to me -- that part of it does excite me, but it isn’t quite what pushes me over the edge.  What gets my motor running is the thought of the whole thing afterwards…

I remember now what that feels like yielding to those first two or three spankings back in our very early dd days, those quite intense spankings just for me to practice submitting my body and my will to Storm and for him to establish his dominance.  He knew the shape of my body, but he did not know the curve of me bent over his knee or the visual presentation of me jutting out my sit spot. Concealed in the bedroom closet, the sound muffled by clothes squeezed in like a coat check at a New Year’s Eve party in New York City, we were not so far back that we encountered Narnia, but we were surely about to turn fantasy into reality.  Completely naked, I was bent over his knee as he sat in a chair and spanked me by hand. Oh, my! The time he took.  The care he took. My bottom bared to him, bent at the waist, my head and arms rested on pillows piled high below. I know how turned on he was during because I could feel his stiffness against my hip.  Were we really doing this? Oh, yes, we were.  The heat of my tender skin set afire by his rough palm as he peppered slaps all over my rear and my sit spot, too.  And then one time, a type of garden stick, quiet yet deceptively painful. That was the closest time I have ever come to tears.  

So, yes, I seek all the feelings that make up my submission, my vulnerability, my being humbled that are the most prominent in the immediate afterwards.  This is what I hunger for again in the future. Me, shaky, vulnerable, dominated, my body bare, my bottom ablaze, I stand and put my face in his neck, clinging to him as I continue to tremble, he steadies me with his confident yet incredibly tender hold.  Oh, God, yes.  That is the cloudburst of emotions that I long for once again.  That is what I seek from being spanked in the heat of the moment -- kind of for the shock factor, kind of to see if he has this in him, some for the softening of my emotions, but mostly?  Mostly if will be for that feeling of right afterwards. Right after he spanks me in the heat of the moment…

~o~

Windy, thank you so much. You've given us a great story and I hope you'll write more. And now to everyone else out there who would be willing to share a story with us. Get to writing and send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Logical for us

I really enjoyed Windy’s post the other day and it reminded me of something LJ told me while he was here for the reunion. Most of you probably know that New York City has large gay community. They know a great deal about one another’s history. 

One of LJ 's friends, Tag, had recently gone home for his father’s birthday – at the insistence of his mother. It didn’t go particularly well. There were hateful words and smoldering silences. Upon returning to NY, Tag didn’t seem particularly upset. The visit had gone the same as past visits and none of it was unexpected.

Getting together with a group of his friends when he got back he told them, “It was what I expected. I need to go there occasionally, they’re my biological family. But thankfully you guys are my logical family. And I’m glad to be back home.”

Logical family! I loved it and not only is it perfect for the gay community I think it’s perfect for our community. Many of us have spent years, sometimes decades, hiding who we are, afraid to come out and talk about the longing and desires many of us were born with. Few of us share this part of ourselves with our biological families, but here with other’s like us – our logical family, we can finally be ourselves.

Thank you for being my logical family.

Three week and a half weeks and counting.

Now that isn’t how long it’s been since I was spanked, not how long since we had a lovely romp in the sheets, not how long since I’ve been to the gym, not how long since I’ve cooked a good meal – what could it be?

That’s how long I’ve been without my car! I didn’t mind at first, but now I’m going a little stir crazy. What’s wrong with it? Beats me. Coming back from Mollie’s nearly four weeks ago I thought it sounded rough. Nick was outside when I got home and he noticed the same thing.

The next afternoon I tried turning it over and it growled, sputtered and stopped. It was time to have it towed in and looked at. Nick has told me  that (and I’m saying the words he used – but it’s like a foreign language). They had to put on a new head, and when they did, something was wrong with the timing chain and it broke and it bent the valves  when they tried starting it and basically, they had to start over. All I know about what I just said is that it doesn’t sound cheap.

Now I love staying home more than most. So, it hasn’t been a true hardship. But I do occasionally have places I have to go. The gym for one. I’ve taken Nick’s car some days, if he doesn’t have to take dinner to his dad. I’ve missed two WW meetings. I had a dentist appointment and had to interrupt one of Mollie’s last days of vacation for a ride. I was planning to go help her get her classroom ready this week and the cleaning lady is coming tomorrow and I like to be gone when she is here. As I told Windy, I may have to get a horse. 

At least I have plenty of time to write.

Meme from Hermione, Terps, NoraJean

I’m writing hard these days! I’ve got a book I really want to

get finished and so I’m blogging a little less as I try to get it finished. But you all know I like to touch base with everyone and a good meme is helpful. My thanks to Hermione, Terps, NoraJean and whoever else is willing to play along.

Who's oldest?

Nick is way, way older than me. I was his child bride. Well, he’s six years older. That counts doesn't it?

Who was interested first?

We had met several times in different situations. Once when he was on a date with another girl. But we were both at a friend’s birthday party and began talking. I think we must have both been interested about the same time. He called a few days later and asked me out.

Same High school?

Nope and because of his vast age, we weren’t in high school at the same time anyway.

Most sensitive?

That would be me. I think. Sometimes we both hide our feelings so I may hurt his feelings without knowing it.

Worse temper?

That would be him. He can blow up and be very snappy – it’s happened two maybe three times in our thirty-five year marriage. So it’s not something that is a problem.

More social?

That’s me, but less than I used to be. Nick and his whole family is very reserved (almost shy). I can jump in and talk to anyone. But as time goes on I often would just rather stay home.

More stubborn?

Him, but not to the point it’s a problem. The only time I’m really stubborn is with the children. With decisions involving the kids, I’m determine to have my way. I always have been.

Wakes up first?

Nick always and forever! He was up and out of the house a little before four the other morning.

Bigger Family?

Immediate family – Nick. There were five kids in his family and only two in mine. But I have more cousins that we see.

Flowers?

Sure, I like them. But I rarely think about them.

Who cooks the most?

That would be Nick.

Cries more?

And that would be me.

Said I love you first?

Yep, we’ve been married a long time. I honestly don’t remember.

Better singer?

I’m guessing me since I’ve never once heard Nick sing a single note.

Better driver?

I think we’re about even – but I hate driving when we’re together. I think cars are for sleeping.

Hogs the remote?

I have it the most because I’m better at turning the volume up and down and pausing it when we’re talking.

Better cook?

It sure ain’t me!

Clothes And Shoe Hoarder?

We’re neither good at keeping our closets cleaned out and getting rid of old stuff. But occasionally he’ll wear the shirt he had on when Mollie was born. I find it very annoying that it fits.

What I've been doing

I’ve survived another reunion. We all had a good time and I did love having all the kids at home. We ended up with twenty-seven for the reunion. That amount we can do comfortably as long as we can use the carport and it was fine this year. We got more of the younger generation here this time so the pool got a lot of use. And Nick got a pool picture with his drone.

Monday morning Nick and I headed for my cousin’s lake house. This is the I used in my head for much of Cassie’s house on the river. It’s a beautiful peaceful place and I love going once a year. This was our room there, with such a beautiful view someone suggested they put a large mirror on the opposite wall so where ever you are standing you see the water.

We had a great lightening show on our last night at the lake and I was able to capture some great pictures! 

I followed my usual vacation plan - talking, eating and napping with boating thrown in a bit. Heavenly. Unfortunately, reality is now sticking it’s nose back into my life. I over-did the eating and vastly under-did the exercising. I have six day to return to the weight I was last month on the thirteenth, as per Nick’s orders. And in fairness these orders were given long before the reunion so I really can’t say I wasn’t warned. It can be done, but can I do it? 

I don’t have a car at the moment – it’s in the shop, doctors don’t like diabetics going on a crash (stop eating) diets so I may have to get creative. Cross your fingers for me and I’ll let you know.

Marks

 Alternate title: 

Never let your husband trim the Crabapple tree

 on weigh in day.

I’m a spanko through and through. I spent my youth, well actually right on up until the present, day-dreaming about my lover’s hand, his belt, paddles of leather or wood. I’ve eyed with longing many kitchen implements and even the occasional sandal. 

But never once have I daydreamed longing of a cane or anything like it. I was reared in the south. I doubt anyone had heard of someone being caned – but trust me every parent and grandparent knew all about switches and they knew how to use them too.

Sadly, my Nick knows all about them too – as well as my dislike for them. Unfortunately, that make them an excellent motivational tool. And it just so happened he was trimming the Crabapple tree hours before we were to have ‘weekly review’. Seeing this he thought it might come in handy in getting my attention as we come upon some big eating events in the next week.

He used it sparingly, after a nice warm-up, but it did leave marks and I think that bothered him a little. He remarked on them a couple of time. I said I wanted to see too and he took a quick picture – impressive. I assured him that as a spanko, I liked the occasionally mark. But I do prefer a small bruise from a paddle or belt if I had my choice.

No, I’m not posting the picture! I had Nick delete it. With Mollie as our tech support there is no reason to have that on his phone! 

I’m off for more exercise and less eating!