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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Wednesday, March 31, 2021

I don’t like spanking *

* There is an explanation to this title. We’ve talked about how everyone in the TTWD  family is so very different. There are as many ways to do TTWD (this thing we do, basically spanking and such – for the newcomers) as there are people doing it. When Nick and I participate I’d say we’re pretty near the middle of the scale. I see the scale going from those who do a little light spanking during sex to heavy full on BDSM and everything that it can imply.

 

So after thinking about spanking all my life and writing a blog about it for over fourteen years, why on earth would I say I don’t like spanking? 


Because I don’t.



But let me tell you what I do like. I like the feeling of anticipation before a spanking. That sizzling butterfly feeling. The sexy emails we often send back and forth. A well worded ‘threat’ can enflame me.The wondering – is this going to be a light play session, a hard stress buster, a you will listen to me or an all-out rump roasting that you know you fully deserve.

 

I like wondering what he going to use? His hand, the light leather paddle, the heavy leather paddle, the wood paddle, the flogger or the cane (yikes!)

 

I like the fact that when he takes me to the bedroom I know that for the duration of our next little while I will be the sole focus of his attention. We will both be concentrating on one another and the rest of the world can go jump for a while. Not to mention the great sex that usually follows the spanking!

 

Then comes the spanking itself. Warm-ups are nice, tingling and stinging just enough to bring a rush of blood to some very interesting places. But then it steps up. Now I know that there are many out here who truly enjoy pain, hats off to you for knowing yourselves well. But that’s not me and I say that a firm wooden paddle, or a thick leather strap struck sharply against your ass HURTS! And when it’s repeated over and over it HURTS WORSE! I don’t like this!





 









My mind goes into a frenzy begging silently, Please stop! I can’t take anymore!  Only to be followed immediately by, Wait, is that all? when it’s over.

 

I forgot to mention one of Nick’s questions the other day and it was an important one too. During our in-spanking talk (as Windy called it) he asked if I ever dreamed of being sore or really feeling it the next day. Short answer – 

 

Oh, hell YES!

 

If I liked the anticipation before a spanking, I love the after effects. Any pain we can take with us from the spanking is proof – a continuing reminder of how much we’re loved. That my guy took time away from yard work, golf or watching sports to make TTWD real, to do something he knows I need in my life to keep me happy and balanced. He’s the only one who can do this for me. For me it’s proof of his love and caring. It may be the after-pain that I love the most about TTWD.

 

‘Feeling it the next day’ sound reasonable in books. But in truth, it’s only happened for me twice in all these years. I had a few stray bruises and sore spots the first time he used his belt. I grinned more the next day than I normally would in a week.

 

Which brings me to the one and only good thing about a cane. Besides giving the immediate white-hot, nearly unbearable pain of the stroke, it does give a lasting effect. These feeling of these tiny thin lines can linger. Marks, which can be seen and enjoyed for days are common. For me, these are the only reasons I haven’t given a hard no to the cane.

 

In conclusion I’ll quote Cassie, “I’m perfectly happy with a husband who spanks. I love our lifestyle and I wouldn’t change it. The only time I don’t like our lifestyle is when he is actually spanking. During those moments I’m dead set against it. But in the big picture that’s  very small amount of time.”

Monday, March 29, 2021

I did get spanked, but I was embarrassed to tell you

Now you know me, I certainly wasn’t embarrassed about the fact I got spanked, but I was truly hesitant to discuss it here. And of course, if not here, where? It’s just that after so many years blogging I’ve repeated myself ad nauseam. I’d write about wanting spanking in my
life, needing it, longing for it. Then I’d write about getting a little spanking in my life, then about not getting enough. And finally  vowing to never agree to a spanking again only to turn around to say we’re trying again. I started to picture readers pointing and laughing.

 

I know I’m supposed to write for myself and not worry about what readers think. I do sometimes, but not always. Let’s just say I was beginning to roll my eyes in both disgust and amusement. So I haven’t talked much about spanking in a long time. And definitely not about me getting spanked.

 

But Nick and I did talk – face to face with real words and everything and that was a good start. We’ve since done some emailing and talking. He made it clear that he thought I deserved a good spanking for just stopping everything without talking to him at all. No discussion, no nothing. Just, ‘I’m not doing that anymore.’

 

So one afternoon I was told what time to be in the bedroom and what to be wearing – basically the blindfold. Nick then made it clear how he had felt about my abrupt ‘withdrawal of consent.’ It was much better that the few play spankings I had during this past year. They just hurt. I had plenty of thinking time before this one and I could take much more. Strange how that works for me. Also Nick is never harsh. He never wants to go too far. And for the most part I appreciate that. Although pushing the limits can have its value too.


He asked some interesting questions during the spanking. He wanted to know if I ever daydreamed about things that wouldn’t necessarily be good for me, did I muse of those spankings that were really hard, that went on too long, or were done with implements that I hated. And I told him yes, I often did. He asked if I ever daydreamed about the cane and I told him no. He agreed that it was more for punishment rather than fancies.

 

Then he asked me if I every fantasied about being spanked to tears. I told him honestly that I hadn’t thought of that since the early days. I don’t think it’s possible. He could injury me which he would never do. He could spank me to rage, but I don’t think actual tears are possible unless I was extremely emotional beforehand and if I were that emotional a light spanking would do it. I think it’s impossible for me to let go that much. It would be nice to experience it, but I just don’t know how.

 

So it happened. And the sex afterwards was great. And I have every hope that it will continue.

Friday, March 26, 2021

Fantasy Friday Revival - Baseball

Welcome to Fantasy Friday. This is a story from 2008 and it came from an anonymous reader. I think this lovely wife falls completely in the brat category. Please enjoy...



Baseball

I don’t ask for much, in fact I am very easy to get along with. I expect him to notice when I change my hair, tell me when I look nice, and put me ahead of stupid things like baseball. We both work hard, put in long hours during the week. I don’t care what he does, weeknights. But, come the weekend, it is my time.

I don’t know why this is so difficult for him. I bought him a VCR so he could tape the games and watch them during the week. He says that just isn’t the same, it has to be live. I watch taped soaps and talk shows; I don’t see what the big deal is.

I refuse to lose to a bunch of guys on television. I will make him forget all about baseball.

**********

I knew she was spoiled when I married her. That's why we agreed on no children. She is a full time job all by herself. We both work hard, and make good money. Our investments will keep us in our old age. I have never wanted another woman, not since I first laid eyes on her, but enough is enough. I will watch baseball on the weekends. It is not as if I neglect her, a few hours of my own is not too much to ask.

Perhaps she needs another lesson on who is in charge.

*********

I cannot believe him. I paraded around in his favorite get up, tried to get him out of his clothes, even got so far as sitting on his lap, then the commercials were over and he sent me off to find something to do. To add insult to injury he strolls in, after the game, and expects me to fall all over him because he has time for me now. Like I can just turn myself on and off like a television. At least I made him work for it. But this is the last time.

*********

The next time she pulls one of her stunts during a game I am going to give her more "attention" than she bargained for. I must admit, it is comical to watch her. She's about as subtle as a freight train. She specializes in hard to get, but let there be a game on and suddenly she is panting for me. Just a few more weeks and the season will be over. I don't follow any other sports, so it will calm down over the winter and then the cycle starts again.

*********

I have had it. This is now all out war. We had a "discussion" about finances last night. That's what he calls it when he has me over his lap and is explaining with the paddle why I have to follow the budget. I'll show him budgeting. As long as we are cutting back and pinching pennies there is no reason for an extravagance such as cable. They were very sweet about terminating our service. Sunday morning, first thing, no more cable, no more baseball.

*********

Something is up. Whenever she is this sweet she's hiding something. I got a backrub, a home cooked meal and she practically chased me up to bed. She must have bought something really big this time. She hasn't worked this hard to soften me up since she decided she needed a sports car.

*********

He doesn't suspect a thing! I will just go read in my room when it's time for the game, and act all surprised and hurt that he isn't happy that I took him seriously when he said cut back on the spending. He can yell for a minute, and then he can spend the afternoon making it all up to me. Let's see, make love, then off for an expensive dinner, maybe dancing, if we aren't too tired. Why didn't I think of this sooner?

*********

Something is definitely up. We went out for brunch, as usual. Walked along the river. Then home, and she went off to read. No pouting, no complaining, no begging me to skip the game.

*********

Just as I get settled and am reading, minding my own business, letting him do whatever he wants, he starts shouting. Demanding I come downstairs. I take a moment to make sure I don't giggle and spoil the whole thing, and then wander down, trying to look innocent and a little confused.

*********

I cannot believe she would go this far. She canceled the damn cable. We get maybe three local stations, all poorly, without cable. I called to complain that it was out and they informed the "missus" had arranged for service to be terminated today. She knows this is the playoffs. Then she has the nerve to stroll in here like nothing is wrong, just can't imagine why I am yelling. I sent her upstairs to wait for me, in the corner. I need to calm down before I go up. The whole explanation about saving money and doing it for my own good was the final straw.

*********

He is being such a jerk about this. I knew he would get upset, but I figured it would blow over, he would see the humor in it and then we would make up. It's only one lousy game. I hope he hurries up; I hate waiting in the corner, like a little girl. I hate waiting almost as much as I hate what I'm waiting for.

*********

She looks so pathetic, in the corner, skirt up, panties down, sniffling. If I didn't know it was all an act calculated for sympathy I'd be ready to gather her up and forgive her. We both learned the hard way that doesn't work for us. I don't know about other couples but if she doesn't get her bottom paddled good and hard every now and then she just escalates.

I pull a chair to the middle of the room, no laying on the bed in comfort, this is a punishment, and a well deserved one at that. When I call her to me, she shuffles, panties around her ankles, and stands with her head down, the picture of remorse. I point, and she gingerly drapes herself across my lap. No lecturing, I start spanking, good and hard.

By the time the tears start her bottom is red and I pull the paddle out of my back pocket. It has been a long time since she has gotten a serious punishment. By the time I work my way down the back of her thighs she is begging for mercy, promising to be good, and swearing the cable will be back on tomorrow. I figure if she can still talk I'm not finished. It only takes a few more minutes to reduce her to uncontrolled sobbing. I let her rest over my lap for a moment until her sobs have quieted enough to hear me. Then I tell her the rest of her punishment. She has five minutes to wash her face, get dressed and meet me downstairs. We're going down to the local tavern to watch the rest of the game.

There will be no complaining, or we will come home and start over.

~~

My thanks to my anonymous readers for her story. I do think this lovely wife got exactly what she deserved. I hope some of you are out there writing now. Please send any stories you come up with to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Thursday, March 25, 2021

Another question

 


Baker asked - 

I guess my question hinges off of Fondles. What are the implements you've tried and never EVER want to try again? And what implements would you like to try and never have?
--Baker

 

This one made me really think. Although you wouldn’t think it a horrible, harsh implement, I despise the bamboo backscratcher we have. It just hurts. I know many of you know what I mean. All implements hurt, but still we crave them. There is a feel about them we come to love even as they wail away on our behinds – but that backscratcher HURTS terribly on the surface, but leaves no lasting pain you can enjoy later. It’s strange, but I think it’s horrible thing. I’m not a fan of the cane either, but I’m not ready to take it off the table just yet.

 

As for the second part I’m stumped. I honestly can’t think of anything we haven’t tried over the years that I have any desire to try. Some I don’t ever what to play with would be the loopy Johnny, a bungee cords or an Acrylic paddle. 

 


For a happy update. My boys were able to get their first vaccine last week! Just like me they got a call late in the afternoon – a cold, rainy afternoon – where many people had not come in to get their vaccine. They jumped into a cab and rushed over. They have a second appointment in April am beyond thrilled!


Questions are still welcome! 

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

More answers

Note to Artlover - 
I was late answering your comment on my post on 3-15-21.
 I've answered it now if you want to go back and see.

I really thank everyone who has taken the time to ask questions. Bloggers are always looking for post ideas and I think this helps us out. 


Here are a few more answers. 

Bonnie asked:

Here's my question: What is at the top of your to-do list once you achieve full immunization?

It’s kind of like a day-dream isn’t it? Right now I’m most looking forward to the simple things – I want to go shopping. I’m not a big

shopper, but I’d sure like some new clothes. I want to walk through the store and touch things and try them on. I also want to wander through a Target or one of my favorites – Staples! I want to grab lunch with a friend and go to a movie theater and munch on popcorn. You knew, the things retirement is supposed to be all about.

I’m sure Nick will plan a big trip as soon as it’s safe and that will be great. But just being ‘normal’ again is what I’m most looking forward to.

 

Fondles asked:

Would you name 3 implements that are employed regularly (or have been in the past) besides the hand, on your behind and rank them in order of preference pls :)

Reply

 

I liked this, it made me think. 

 

Beginning with I number three think I’d choose the paddle we got from Blondie. It stings like the devil and I can’t take it for long. But the beauty of the this paddle and the psychological aspect of it – it is a paddle, there is no other use for it. Seeing it on the bed just does things to my mind, before it does thing to other parts of my anatomy.

 

 

Number two I would say is the belt. It makes for a wonderful love/hate feeling. It’s the stuff of my fantasies from way back. Watching, or even listening to it being unbuckled and pulled through the loops is another implement that draws your mind into play before the first stroke.

 

But the feel is the thing I love/hate. I love leather, I love that it conforms to my behind, that wrap-around feel. But it too, can be very painful. The first time he ever used a belt it left bruises that I could feel for days. I think that bothered Nick, but I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face I was so happy with my little badges of honor, as I thought of them.

 

 

But Number one has to go to the doggin’ bat! I do love this implement. It’s inexpensive and can be ordered from any equestrian site. It’s leather, so you have to love that. The lovely slapping sound it make is definitely another draw. But the best part is its versatility. It’s perfect for beginners or for light, fun, sexy spankings. However, put a little muscle into the strike and it can be perfect for harsh punishing strokes as well.


 


Thanks Fondles, this was fun.


Enzo asked:

My question: Is there any words of wisdom that you have learned about spanking that you have would like to share with fellow spankers?
Best,
Enzo


I have plenty of words and suggestions – wisdom, I’m not so sure. I know for beginners that wives can present this to her husband as something to spice up their sex life and usually get his attention and willingness to participate fairly quickly. After that she can bring up other related topics, her desire to be submissive, him being more dominant, the dd lifestyle – whatever her things is. 

I know this next piece of advice is critical, and it’s been said so many times people must be sick of hearing it – communicate! Talk, email, leave notes, text, email – whatever, but communicate! My readers, I’m sure, are laughing and are ready to throw this advice back at me. I know communication is the key. I also know I could do myself a world of good by eating a healthier diet and working out an hour at the gym daily. Simply knowing something works doesn’t make it any easier to do. But I’ll say it again:

To have any chance of having a good working spanking relationship you must communicate your needs and ask your partner what their needs are. A sad fact is neither of you can read minds. 

Thanks for coming by Enzo, I appreciate the question. 


There is more of March to go – if you do have a question, please ask away.



Monday, March 22, 2021

To answer your question...

Several people stopped by to ask questions for March: Questions and Answer month. Thank you for asking! Here are your answers.

Windy asked:

PK,
If you had to choose a different screen name than you have ever used including names in your books, what would your new blog land name be and why? 

I’ve actually given that some thought lately. I’m writing a vanilla book in addition to working on the ‘On the River’ series. Since there is no spanking in it, I want another pen name. I wouldn’t people buying a PK Corey book and being disappointed that it’s not what they expected.

The name I think I’ll use for those books (assuming that there may be more) is Lizbeth Lyn or some version of that. It was the name of someone I cared for greatly in the past.

Thanks for asking!

 

Roz asked:

Hi PK,

How did you come up with your character names? You talk about them telling you their stories. Does that include their names?

What activity (non kink/sexy) do you and Nick enjoy doing together?

Hugs 
Roz


Thanks Roz. Some I have known forever Cassie, Tom, Sue and Annie for example. I don’t remember how they came to me. As I sit here and think about it the names of the good guys in my stories just come – a name pops into my head and feels ‘right.’ For various reasons I tried to change Lily’s name before her first appearance. But I couldn’t do it. Her name was Lily so I left it alone. Now I don’t have a ton of ‘villains’ in my books, but when I have someone being a jerk, I think back over people who have really annoyed me in life. An old boss or co-worker and use their name.

In Returning to Us, the husband’s name was going to be Ross. My wonderful editor, Rosie Dee, quickly pointed out that having a frequently used name ending in double SS’s was a possessive nightmare. So I changed it to Hal.

As for what we like to do together, Nick and I laughed at this question, because we don’t have many shared activities. He likes golf and photography. I like reading, writing, and day dreaming. But when he can get me started, we like to travel together. He takes pictures and I make up stories along the way.

 

Deena asked:

 

Ooh, I hope you don't mind me picking your brain a bit :)

What has been the biggest benefit of having this type of relationship, and what has been the biggest obstacle?


Pick away! If you find anything useful, you’re welcome to it. The major benefit for us was that when I came out and he accepted me for who I was, my walls came down. I’m talking about old well-fortified walls that I hadn’t even realized were there. Suddenly we became closer than we had ever been. Over the years I have rebuilt some of the walls at times. But never to the degree they were. So our closeness remains and that is the biggest benefit that has come from TTWD.

The biggest obstacle has been my pre-conceived notion of what it meant to live this life-style. I don’t blame myself completely – I’d lived with these ideas for almost forty years before I shared them with Nick. It was fixed in my mind. I knew how it was supposed to be! Unfortunately, I didn’t take real life and real people into account. So I was often disappointed, annoyed, upset and angry when everything didn’t go according to my expectations.

Gradually, Nick would say very gradually, my ideas of how things ‘should be’ is becoming more realistic. We may figure this thing out yet.

 

Ronnie asked:

PK,

I'm interested to know about the question Roz asked, especially how you picked the names for your characters.

I know you are a home bird, but if you could spend a day anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Love,
Ronnie
xx

You can read above about the names. But I don’t have to think long for my favorite spot in the world.

 

Colonial Williamsburg

 


It’s not only the place itself, it’s the feeling I have when I’m there. Peace, tranquility and happiness seems to fill me when I walk the streets. No cars are allowed, only horses and carriages. Craftspeople take the time to tell you what they are doing as they make things using only the old tools and methods. 

 

I can’t pinpoint what it is that draws me so. I do love history and of course, it’s everywhere there. I remember being there with my parents when I was a child, I remember Nick and I going shortly after we married and I remember taking our kids there. I feel at home when I’m there.

 

I’m a strong believer in reincarnation. I have no doubt I lived in Williamsburg in a past life and it must have been a very happy life.


More answers tomorrow. 

 

I really appreciate you guys asking questions. If anyone else has any, please send them on!

Friday, March 19, 2021

Fantasy Friday - Flight 2146

Happy Friday. I'm taking most of my Fantasy Friday stories from 2008. This one was written by my friend Ceeci. She was a great blogger and an excellent writer. I secretly hope she is still doing a little writing. I hope you'll enjoy...



Flight 2146



"Your attention please, United Flight 2146, from Chicago, now arriving at Gate 14. Attention please, United Flight 2146, from Chicago, now arriving at Gate 14."

Stephanie's heart missed a beat. Standing, she smoothed her dress, patted her hair then licked her lips in anticipation. All the months of talking, all the months of planning and fantasies were about to become reality. Michael would be walking through the door to meet her for the first time. She hoped he wouldn't be disappointed. She hoped she wouldn't be either.





'I wish I could be there to help you celebrate your birthday with a spanking,' his comment on her blog had read. Stephanie had smiled when she saw it. Michael had been a secret crush for nearly two years and lately, his comments seemed more flirtatious. She responded by playfully asking if what he'd written was a threat or a promise.

Within a few weeks, Michael and Stephanie were talking on the phone nightly. They realized they had many things in common beyond their enjoyment of spanking. Occasionally, their conversations would stretch into the early morning hours.

They had carefully planned Stephanie's birthday spanking. Michael asked her questions about her previous spankings. Was she dressed? Had she been spanked during the day? Had she ever had her panties taken down? Did she have a favorite implement? Was there one that frightened her? Did she bruise easily? How about a sexy dress? Would she enjoy going over his knee? Stephanie had answered each of his questions truthfully and the scene for her spanking began to form in Michael's imagination.

He would take her to his hotel room. After checking in and depositing his luggage he hoped there would be a chair to accommodate their needs, if not, then he was prepared to be seated at the edge of the bed. Stephanie would remain dressed for this spanking. If there were others to come during his visit, those would be a different flavor.

Michael wanted to select her clothing. He wanted her in a dress. He also wanted her to be properly attired underneath her clothing. A slip, panties and matching bra were expected. He required she wear heels and hose. He knew Stephanie was a lady through and through and he wanted her dressed to fulfill his fantasies.

Once in the room, Michael would make himself comfortable while Stephanie waited for her 'gift'. He'd remove his shoes and socks, loosen the collar of his shirt, remove his belt (more for drama than use) and seat himself to begin fulfilling his promise.

He would beckon Stephanie to come forward. He hoped there would be a moment's hesitation and a fleeting look of doubt upon her face. After all, it isn't everyday two strangers rendezvous to make good on a casual comment.

Stephanie would step forward and stand beside him waiting for his directions.

In silence, Michael would take her hand, tug her forward and help her position her body across his lap. He wanted her head lower than her bottom and her hands occupied on the floor to maintain her balance. Once she was in position, Michael anticipated the pleasure he would find rubbing his hands over her round, clothed bottom. He would be in no hurry to get down to business. He would have a beautiful woman willingly positioned over his knee waiting, anticipating the delivery of a gift.

Slowly, Michael would raise the hem of her dress. Once he'd exposed her covered bottom, he would raise the hem of her slip. More rubbing and stroking were his plan and he would tease Stephanie's thighs and bottom with long slow caresses. Each stroke would be meant to help her relax and help her understand that his intentions were only to make good on his promise.

When he knew she was ready and the moment was at hand, he would begin spanking her upturned cheek. "Count them out, birthday girl," would be the first words he'd say. Once they'd reached fifteen, he would stop, rub for a moment, then ask Stephanie to stand and take her pantyhose down to her ankles. Her panties would remain in place.

"Back over my knee, birthday girl," he'd declare and once again position her with her luscious backside higher than her head. With the first spank, he'd ask Stephanie to begin counting again. At 25 he would pull the right leg of her panties between the cheeks of her rosy, red ass. At 35, he would pull the left leg of her panties into the same position, give them a little tug and then stop to rub her hot, glowing orbs.

"You're doing pretty good there, birthday girl," he would assure her and then ask if she was comfortable and ready for more. He would continue stroking her bottom and the backs of her thighs until he felt she was ready once again.

Because Stephanie had shared she'd never been spanked clothed or had her panties pulled down the next part of their fantasy was something they were both anticipating. It would be the first time he would see her sex. It would be the first time she'd felt someone else take her panties to her knees in preparation to spank her. They would both enjoy the experience.

Michael dreamed of taking the waistband of her bright, white panties firmly in his right hand to peel them away from her bottom. He would pull them down to a place just above her knees. From that position, he'd decided he would take his time getting back to her bottom. He wanted to explore her skin by slowly running his hand up the silky smoothness inside her thighs. He would not stop until he reached the place her legs came together. His hope was to find her anticipating more, much, much more.

With only sixteen more spanks to deliver, Michael wanted to be certain each one was memorable. He wanted Stephanie to remember this birthday spanking for the rest of her life.





"Your attention please, United Flight 2146, from Chicago, now arriving at Gate 14."

Stephanie took a deep breath and stepped forward to meet Michael at last.

~o~

Thank you Ceeci! As always your writing is wonderful. If you do still do some writing... well, you'd always be welcome to share here. That goes for everyone. Please send any stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

March – Questions and Answer month


My thanks to Ronnie for reminding me about question and answer month. We did this for years and then kind of let it go. But here we go... 

 

Ask anything you like. That’s anything from the blog to real life to my books… anything. I won’t promise to answer everything, but if it’s not my address, my social security number or my weight I’ll probably give it a go. 

Monday, March 15, 2021

All right, who the hell has Nick’s email address?

Such an interesting Sunday. Let me go back and begin on Saturday night. Nick and I went out to eat with our friends for the first time in well over a year. The friends and I all have birthdays in December so Nick usually take us all out to our favorite place. All of them have been fully vaccinated and I had my first shot so I felt pretty save.


This place has the best food ever. They have a fantastic salad bar. To go to the salad you had to be masked, of course, and you had to wear gloves, which they provided. In addition to this great salad, I got prime rib you could cut with a fork, a baked potato and cookies and cream cheese cake for dessert (which we brought home to share.) It was great to be out with people again!

 

Sunday morning was peaceful and pleasant. After church (on line) I settled in to answer some emails. Nick and I have been emailing about many of the things I’ve talked about out here. I owed him an email, but I was still thinking about my reply. I’d been about to reply to a friend’s email, where she again urged me to try talking to him face to face. When Nick came to the writing room and said, “Why don’t we talk about these emails?”



So fess up? Which of my sneaky-devil friends emailed this man behind my back? Maybe it was a joint vibe coming from many of you. But there he was, in the flesh and wanting to talk – with voices, not typing. I felt a little panic stricken. But we actually talked, face to face. I did a lot of listening (easier than talking) but I did my share of talking too.

 

We talked about sex, what’s good for us, what our needs are, how we feel about some things, a few things we liked, a few we didn’t – we just talked. We touched on exercise/diet. He’s hesitant, but willing to help. But it’s on me, as it should be, to set realistic goals which may have to do with weight loss, but mostly for more exercising – movement and if I want his help I have to self-report. He won’t be telling me anything about eating or when to walk or anything like that.

 

I was the one who called a halt to everything many months back – I even quit recording my weight weekly, something he’d asked me to do and I’d done for nearly two years. He surprised me when he said, “I think if we are going to work on this together you deserve a spanking for calling a stop to it all before without even discussing it with me.” 

Hmm… 

 

It was a good time to talk. There was no pressure on either of us. Mollie was coming over sometime and so we both knew nothing was going to happen that day. It was just a day for thinking and talking. 

 

He did say one thing that made me laugh. He know I have a ‘punishment fetish’ of sorts. And I’ve often said I didn’t like mixing discipline with sex. But recently we’ve been watching ‘Outlander’ together. I’m assuming we are the last to see it. But Nick told me, loosely quoting Jamie Frazier (so read this with your Scottish accent) “Just because I have to punish you and beat your arse, Sassenach, did not mean I’m not going to enjoy it.” I had to laugh. 




We’re still talking and emailing. We may get this thing somewhat figured out eventually. But for you guys – no more emailing my husband!

Friday, March 12, 2021

Fantasy Friday - Alimony

I love every Fantasy Friday story I have ever had the privilege to post but this one… oh my!  Well you will see what I mean when you read.  Find a time when you don’t have to rush through it. This one needs to be savored.


Alimony


Jane watched her soon to be ex-husband sign the final documents. She had argued long and hard for those concessions. Her attorney felt she

was pushing too hard, but she knew she deserved every bit of it. In fact, that was the deciding point, when she argued that David had taught her to appreciate, in fact to require, certain things from life. David looked at Jane, smiled and nodded, and directed his attorney to draw up the papers, “give her exactly what she wants” he said, and walked out. The only changes he had made were for the alimony to be paid weekly, rather than monthly. Jane had no problem with that, as long as he paid, and paid dearly, she didn’t care how the checks were divided.

Their marriage had lasted a little over two years. She helped put him through law school, had relocated with him for a good position with a major firm. All of their early dreams came true and their marriage died in the aftermath of getting what they wanted. He was pulling down a six figure income and working 70 hours a week. She was lost in a series of dead end jobs that lost their meaning once he graduated.

But all that was about to change. Filing for divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences, plain old indifference, really, she was about to embark on an exciting new career. His alimony would support her while she wrote her book. Several books, actually, she made sure there would be enough to get through the first few years, until she had a best seller and her name was a household word.

The book was all planned. The title was “Alimony”. It was the story of a coffee house waitress that married a poor, pre-law student and supported him all the way to the top of his profession. Right up to the point where he dumped her. Of course, that’s not how it really happened. Jane had packed David’s clothes and asked him to leave in a very civilized manner. But she had to change some things to make it a better story, it was called poetic license. Just the fact that the poor, uneducated waitress won over the rich attorney would sell the book to millions of women who dreamed of a stress-free lifestyle, supported by a generous alimony payment.

There were a few details she had decided to leave out. The spanking, for example. David started spanking her before they were even married, mostly over minor things, like bounced checks and forgotten payments. He said she needed that kind of “guidance” to stay on track. After he finished school he was too busy to pay that much attention. His secretary paid the bills and managed the bank accounts. Jane rarely saw him, he left for work before she got up and most nights stayed late. He said it was necessary if he wanted to make partner in under five years. By the time Sunday rolled around, his one day off, he was exhausted and grumpy, and never wanted to do anything fun. Weeks would go by without making love, she couldn’t even get him to fight with her, it was hopeless.

Now she was free to make a life at her own pace. No more wondering when he was coming home. She had peace and quiet, and enough money to live very comfortably while she wrote.

No sense being in a rush. All dressed up for the divorce meeting and no schedule to keep, might as well treat herself to a nice lunch.

Jane was settled into a booth at her favorite restaurant, sipping a margarita and scribbling notes for her book on a cocktail napkin when a familiar voice sounded next to her ear.

“Mind if I join you?”

David looked handsome as ever, his dark hair cut short and his pinstripe suit crisp and tailored. The young executive look suited him, but Jane preferred him in jeans with his hair tousled, the just finished making love to my wife look.

She realized she was staring into his eyes, remembering how soft they were when he would slide inside her. Jane blushed and offered him a seat. It was silly not to, their marriage died of neglect, not anger. David motioned to her nearly empty glass and offered a refill, more to cover her confusion than anything, she nodded.

Two hours later, pleasantly drunk and laughing together they called cabs and headed home. David promised to deliver her first alimony check Sunday morning. He escorted her to the cab, paid her fare and sent her off with a reminder to get some writing done.

Jane went into her empty house and noticed for the first time how different it is when you know no one is coming. It had been a pleasant afternoon, like the way it had been when David still had time for her. Suddenly, four drinks and an empty house combined, Jane crawled into bed, scared and confused. Missing her husband was definitely not in the script.

Jane spent all day Friday in bed. It wasn’t depression, exactly, more a sadness at what could have been. Saturday she cleaned the house, top
to bottom. She just couldn’t 
write in a messy room. Sunday she got up early, David was coming and she didn’t want him to think she was pining away. She baked his favorite cinnamon rolls, not for him, but so he would know what he would be missing. She did her hair, spent hours trying on clothes, and finally settled on a sapphire blue silk dress that David had picked out years ago. He always said it brought out the deep blue of her eyes and went well with her creamy skin tone. She had always liked the feel of silk sliding over her bare skin like a caress. It was a little formal for Sunday brunch but she got out her heels, might as well go all the way and her legs looked great in the short dress. If he asked, she could always say she was going out later. It would serve him right if she said she had a date.

David arrived promptly at 11:00 wearing old, faded jeans and his favorite fraternity sweatshirt. Jane felt fussy in the dress and high heels but couldn’t change, no need for him to think it was for his benefit.

“Wow, you look fantastic. Hey, is that cinnamon rolls I smell?”

He headed straight for the kitchen and helped himself, mumbling appreciatively as he made short work of several. She served coffee and he settled in, telling her about his week at work. It was like old times. Jane couldn’t help being somewhat resentful, why couldn’t he have spent time with her when it counted? As if reading her mind, he took her hand and pulled her closer.

“Jane, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I realize this divorce is mostly my fault. I was so busy with my career I forgot to pay attention to you, and to us. I am sorry for the hurt I have caused you and I want you to know I intend to make it up to you.”

Jane leaned forward; certain he would take her in his arms, kiss her and tell her they had made a terrible mistake. He handed her an envelope.

“Here is your alimony payment. I don’t intend to make the same mistake in our divorce that I did in our marriage. I promise I will follow our agreement to the letter, you can count on me to provide you with all of the things you came to need while we were married.”

Jane leaned back, uncertain whether to thank him or slap him. How dare he make her think he would kiss her?

David smiled and casually asked how her writing was going.

“Oh well, you know how it is. The creative process can’t be forced.”

He looked hard into her eyes.

“Do you mean to tell me that in three days you have not written one, single word?”

“Well, not exactly, I have been sorting ideas and working on other things.” She said uncertainly.

“That is just what I was afraid of. You have always been a procrastinator, never do today what can be put off until tomorrow. I meant what I said, Jane, I may have failed you before but I mean to see to it that you fulfill your dream. What you need is some old fashioned motivation and I intend to provide it.”

Jane was beginning to see just where this was going, she started scooting down the couch, but he was too fast for her.

“Oh no you don’t. You have this coming and you know it. Now get into the bedroom and take that dress off, I will be right in to give you your punishment.”

His tone of voice was the one she had always dreaded, it meant there was no going back, it was too late to make it right. Out of habit she stood and started toward the bedroom, no need in making the punishment worse by arguing.

“Wait a minute, you are not my husband anymore. You have no right to order me around in my house.”

She stood defiantly, glaring at him.

“GO TO YOUR ROOM! If I have to tell you again I’ll use my belt!”

Something in her just snapped when he used that voice, she was a little girl again, and she was in big trouble. Jane ran to the bedroom.

David gave her a few minutes to think about what was coming, then followed. She sat on the edge of the bed looking miserable and scared.

“Young lady, I told you to take that dress off, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir.” She mumbled through a curtain of hair.

“Then get it off, right now!”

Jane slowly unzipped the dress, embarrassed for him to know that she was wearing only a tiny pair of bikini panties underneath. She stepped out of the dress and stood awkwardly clutching it to her chest. David seated himself on the bed and motioned her to his side.

“Come here and tell me why you deserve to be spanked.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better this week, you don’t have to spank me, I’ll be good.”

“Did you have a chance to be good already?”

Jane nodded her head.

“Did you do your work?”

“No.” She whispered softly.

“So tell me why you deserve to be spanked?”

“Because I didn’t do my work.”

“That’s right, you didn’t even start it, and this is important work, isn’t it Jane?”

“I guess so.”

“Since it is such important work and you didn’t even start it I think you had better get the hairbrush and bring it here.”

“NO, not the hairbrush, I’ll be good, honest...”

“Jane! Do you want me to use my belt? No, I didn’t think so. Go get the hairbrush.”

Jane shuffled to the dresser and took out the hated hairbrush. David’s spankings were for punishment, they were real and they hurt, but the hairbrush was the worst. Its heavy back made her scream and howl and left her tender and sore for days. Even the belt was better than the hairbrush, but he never used the belt alone, instead, he just added it to her punishment, so she got it on top of the blisters from the brush.

David took the hairbrush and laid it aside. Scolding over her laziness, he positioned her across his lap with her legs securely trapped beneath one of his. Sliding her panties down to her knees David took his time, making sure she knew exactly what her punishment was to be and why she had earned it. He knew she hated the vulnerability of this position, hated waiting for it to begin, and especially hated his scolding her like a small child. David never mixed the two aspects of her punishments. He would scold her until he felt she was ready, then spank until the lesson was learned.

Without warning his hand crashed down with a loud crack causing her to jump. Even though she knew it was coming the first one always took her by surprise.

David spanked as methodically as he scolded. Aiming several smacks to an area before moving on, slowly covering her entire bottom with angry red hand prints until they faded together into a bright crimson and she began crying in earnest.

Jane never talked or begged during her spankings, just cried harder and harder. When he stopped and picked up the hairbrush she held her breath bracing for the first stroke. To her surprise, he started talking.

“Jane, I know I have neglected you for months. I am very sorry that I hurt you. If you wish to go ahead with the divorce I will understand. However, as long as I am making alimony payments I will make sure that you are also getting the guidance and the discipline you require. I will not let you down in this, I promise. Now, tell me why you are being punished today.”

“Be, because I was lazy.”

“That’s right, and what will happen if you are lazy and do no do your work next week?”

“You’re gonna spank me again.”

“That’s right.”

SMACK! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!!!!!

Without warning the hairbrush crashed against her sore bottom over and over. Jane screamed and wiggled but she was firmly trapped between David’s legs and he continued to deliver hard swats turning her whole backside a deep, dark red. Jane was bucking and heaving, thrashing wildly from side to side as the hairbrush tortured her tender flesh with its horrible burning. Reduced to sobbing and struggling for air as the impact of the brush came harder and harder with each stroke, Jane didn’t even realize when the punishment stopped.

“You get in the corner and think about why you were punished until I come back. No rubbing or I’ll use the belt.”

Jane hurried to the corner, just dying to rub her aching butt. She wasn’t going to risk further strokes, she couldn’t take anymore. David believed in serious punishment spankings, he always made sure there would be a lasting memory and a sore bottom to remind her for days.

She could hear him in the kitchen mixing a drink, then silence. Always before he would leave her in the corner for awhile, then come and hold her, telling her how much he loved her and that all was forgiven. Now that they were almost divorced she didn’t know what to expect.

David watched from the doorway, his heart breaking at losing this beautiful woman. He was determined to give her as much attention as she needed, and to keep giving it to her until she called off this ridiculous divorce. Now that the punishment was over he was unsure how to proceed. He desperately wanted to hold her in his arms until the crying was over then make tender love to her. It was one thing to punish her; he knew he could not push her into sex.

Without a word he led Jane to the bed, gave her his handkerchief and a drink of tea, then laid her down and gently began massaging cool lotion onto her hot bottom.

He had always felt she was most beautiful after a punishment, her long brown hair in wild disarray and her dark blue eyes bright with tears. Carefully sliding his hand over the red, swollen flesh he was tempted to slide lower, knowing she would be wet and ready for him. All instincts raged to take her now, prove that they were meant to be together. He leaned down, taking a deep breath, and gently kissed her shoulder.

“Time for me to be going. I will be here next Sunday with your check. Make sure you have some work ready to show me.”

She couldn’t believe he just left! How dare he treat her this way? Leaving her sore and aching for him. That was just like him, plenty of time to punish her, but no time for making love. She spent the rest of the day angry, and sore, and confused. How could she be so angry and so needy for him at the same time?

The week flew by. So much to adjust to, living alone. Her schedule had always revolved around his. With him gone and no job to go to it was hard to get motivated. Monday and Tuesday were spent at home in a long tee-shirt with no underwear, waiting for the soreness to fade. Wednesday it was such a relief to be able to get dressed she went out to lunch with a girlfriend. Thursday and Friday she made attempts at writing, sitting at her new computer for almost an hour each day, but not one word made sense. Now it was Saturday and the house was getting messy and she needed a few things from the store.

Sunday morning Jane was up early. She tried to write but couldn’t stop thinking about how upset David would be when he got there. Better to fix a nice lunch, she could think about her story while she worked and then type it in before he arrived.

Jane was typing the title page for the third time when the doorbell rang.

“Hi. How are you?” He gave her a quick, very civilized peck on the cheek.

“Oh, is it time for your visit already? I was so busy on the computer I guess the time just got away from me.”

“Great, show me what you have finished.” He headed for the office.

“No, I’d really rather wait until this chapter is finished. I have some small details to work out before I let anyone see it.” Jane felt rather proud of her excuse.

“That’s okay, I don’t expect a finished novel. Besides, I minored in journalism, maybe I can give you some suggestions.”

He pulled up the file menu. “There must be some mistake, there are seven files here and all of them are title pages, not one word of text.”

“Oh well, I just, I mean, well, you see I don’t write it on the computer. It is, well, silly of me, but I write it in my head first.” There. He couldn’t very well check inside her head.

“No problem. I’ll type while you dictate. Just start telling me what you have so far, we can clean it up later.”

He plopped down, in her chair, waiting expectantly.

“David, I would prefer to do this myself. I appreciate your help, and....”

“YOU HAVE NOT WRITTEN ONE WORD!”

It was the voice again. Jane couldn’t look at him as she nodded, knowing he would be furious.

“What did I say about getting your work done last week?”

“That it was important.” She was reduced to her naughty, little girl behavior, talking softly and hanging her head, unable to meet his eye.

“I must not have made much of an impression last week. I will have to talk harder and longer to your bottom this time to make sure you don’t forget again.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t forget, honest, I’ve been busy and I really am working on it in my head. Please don’t punish me, I’ll do better next week.”

“I told you before, I intend to help you with all of the things you need. This is important. Now go to the bedroom and get ready. No arguments.”

Jane shuffled to the bedroom, she knew it was her own fault, she had all week to get her work done and hadn’t even started. She also knew that a small secret part of her wanted and needed him to punish her.

“I’m glad to see you are following instructions today since you have already earned the belt by lying about how much you have done this week.”

Just the thought of the belt had Jane crying all through his scolding. She liked the feel of his hand warming her bottom even though it hurt. There was something so safe about being over his lap, knowing he cared enough to correct her.

All too soon he switched to the hairbrush. Howling and sobbing, Jane writhed across his knees. There was no thinking when that hated brush was pounding her swollen bottom. It went on and on. David was making sure that this lesson stayed with her a long time. Her backside was deep crimson, almost blue in spots, and still he kept swinging. She screeched and blubbered as he worked the brush back and forth on the tender juncture at the top of her thighs.

Finally satisfied that she had had enough, he stood and led her to the armchair. Bending her over the back of the chair he took off his belt and doubled it, careful to keep the buckle in his hand.

The chair was just tall enough to keep Jane’s legs stretched and her bottom high and completely exposed. He stood for a moment, admiring the view. Her ass was twitching from the severe paddling but he could see her sex, open and moist. He knew he could not walk away this time, he wanted her so badly he ached.

The belt swished through the air, landing with a meaty whack that produced a shriek and violent kicking. Balanced on the chair, legs scissoring madly, Jane’s bottom endured ten full swings of the belt.

Gathering her into his arms, he carried her to the bed, soothing her with soft words and gentle caresses. After the ritual of hankie and lotion, he held her until her sobs died down. Without a word he pulled her to her knees and entered her fast and hard.

In moments she was wracked with the spasms of her climax. The site of her quivering combined with the heat of her welted ass proved too much. Driving deep inside her he exploded with pent up need.

Lying together afterward, Jane snuggled against his chest, she was exhausted but content. It was lovely having him home again.

David hated to leave her but he knew the time was not right yet. Slipping the covers over her, he kissed her cheek, reminded her to get some writing done, and left.

By Wednesday Jane had gotten over her anger at him leaving again and was ready to face the fact that she wanted her husband back. It wouldn’t be easy, but, she was certain it could be done.

Waiting in line at the grocery store, Saturday, Jane overheard two women talking about their ex-husbands, late child-support and alimony payments. Jane had to laugh to herself. How eager would they be for their checks if they were delivered like hers were? Here it was, Saturday afternoon, and she had not written one single word.

David thought he was helping her to realize her goals, he just didn’t know he had become one of them.

~o~

This one was sent to me years ago by a reader who wished to remain anonymous. I really do think she did a great job. What about you? You know you have at least that one story in your head. If you write it, I'd be proud to post it. Send any stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com