Fantasy Friday - Letter to my Husband

My less than stellar week is nearly over and I can't tell you how happy I am to see it come to an end. I'm also happy to bring you a great Fantasy Friday today. This was first posted in 2009 so I'm sure it will be new to many. It's a good one and it just makes me tingle. I hope you enjoy…

Letter to my Husband

Dearest Husband,

I want you to spank me - send a note telling me how I should be at the office, in the meeting room, and in position by 4.00pm bent over the conference table ready, I mustn’t move. You won’t arrive at that time. Tell me what I must wear, that you've left clothes on the bed, the black luxury silk underwear and stockings you recently bought, the 3 inch high heels that you love me to parade in front of you, the earrings that you say are like my eyes, deep blue, the smart cashmere business suit with the tight fitting skirt that accentuates my bottom. Tell me I'm to bring the strap, the black leather one you made for me, and the red silk scarf, and place them on the table.

3.30 I'll pull my silk pants over my freshly showered bottom, I'll shiver with anticipation and excitement, stockings, heels, the suit, the earrings, perfume nothing too strong, nearly ready for you, god I'll feel sexy. The strap, I'll take it from your drawer and put it in my handbag along with the scarf.

3.45 I'll get in the car, only a short drive to the office.

4.00 I'll place the strap and the scarf on the table as instructed and be in position bent over the conference table ready waiting just waiting. I'll be still.

4.15 You won't have arrived. My body perspiring lightly, my heart beating so loud I will hear it. My black silk panties damp from the moisture between my legs, I’ll want so much to slip my hand down into my panties and feel my desire, stoke it, thinking of you, but still I will not move.

4.20 You won’t have arrived. I’d hear people in the street outside talking, laughing, doors shutting, dogs barking, a shiver runs through my body every time I hear footsteps approach, my palms sweaty from holding the table, my legs tired. I'll think you aren’t coming, my heart will be sad, upset, I will feel foolish, angry even.

Then you’ll come, I won't see you but I'll know it's you, your key in the door, your footsteps, I'll feel your presence behind me, you wont speak to me yet.

You'll touch my face, my hair, run your fingers down my back over the swell of my bottom, linger lightly there, I'll be shivering and trembling from your touch, my legs weak, I’ll hold the table tighter, I'll be moaning, Oh how I'll want your hand between my legs to take the ache away. But you won't take the ache away.

I’ll hear you pick something up and I know it’s the strap; you’ll put it in your pocket. You’ll take my hands and bind them lightly with the scarf, stretched out above my head; I know not to move them. You'll put your knee between my legs, move them a little further apart until they're just so. I'll let a low moan escape me, I can't help it, I want.

Your hand circles my bottom, I’ll want to turn around but I won’t. Your hands then shimmy my skirt up to my hips, pull my panties aside and I feel your fingers teasing, probing, exploring, my wetness. I’ll want to feel you inside me so so very much. I'll move my bottom to meet your hand to get every inch of contact with you. You swat me; I know I'm to keep keep still.
You still won't speak.

Your hands raise my skirt fully up to my waist, which you hold firmly with your left hand, I know what that means. I feel your right hand caressing the fleshy mounds of my bottom through the flimsy silk of my pants, trailing lightly between the cheeks briefly touching the flesh where cheek meets thigh, and then your hand is raised and there's a whoosh of air as it crashes down hard against my right cheek, followed swiftly by the left, you repeat, build a steady cadence, it stings, makes me gasp. I clench involuntarily as the blows land but quickly relax again to plump out my flesh, make it attractive to you, to do with as you will. You'll notice these things.

When my little mms and ahhs start to become longer lower moans you'll stop. My bottom flesh is alive. All my senses are alert, I'm receptive to the slightest touch, a wisp of air as you move position, your thumbs as they smoothly hook the waistband of my panties, draw them slowly over my hips, my reddened cheeks, to rest at the tops of my stockings. I want to touch myself, I can't my wrists are tied, I wiggle my heated bottom, I'm trying to feel the table against my pussy, I can't, I moan and wiggle harder, I think it must look very lewd my red bottom framed by my stocking tops and suspender, writhing with such obvious intent. You must have noticed, you have to notice, you know me you know what I need.

You’ll say nothing, I hear movement. I’ll feel cool leather brush lightly against my greedy flesh, I’ll let out a whimper and push my bottom towards it, I'm unashamedly pleading, please touch me there right where my wetness glistens for you, please. You can see my arousal, you let the leather slide between my cheeks, touch me so briefly, I feel a trickle of moisture and try to clench the strap between my legs but it's withdrawn and my cheeks are left clenching air. You tell me I'm being lascivious, rude, greedy, impatient, that girls like me need firm discipline to keep their emotions in check. You make me answer in agreement, my voice is distorted with lust and I raise my buttocks as far as I can to please you.

I feel your left hand steady me, I let out another whimper, feel you raise your arm and then the strap comes thrashing down against my bottom with an ear splitting thwack, it connects with both cheeks, the leather is thick and supple, it curls a little but you'll adjust for that. I cry out, it's genuine, it hurts. You know it and bring the leather down again without giving me time to absorb the sting, aiming a little higher and shortening your stroke to cut the curl. You take it quickly to a dozen strokes I'm wriggling like an eel on the end of a line, I can't dissipate the pain, I can't imagine what my bottom looks like all I'm saying is please.... pleading.

Don't stop. Don't let me off the hook. I've been a naughty girl I need to be punished thoroughly until all those wanton feelings are subdued. Pause just a second, firm up your hold on me, tell me it's too late for pleading, raise the strap again bring it down harder than before, my bottom's hotter now it can take more, don't feel for me, a dozen more, two dozen if necessary until my wiggling has stopped and you can hear my sobbing.

Stop. Untie my wrists, help me up I'll be bit unsteady, and take me in your arms and tell me how much you love me. Don't fuss with me too much don't regret what you've done.

Tell me to go straighten up in the washroom now and then go home. You'll be a couple of hours yet, you'll see me later.

I’ll go, I’ll probably have a spring in my step as I walk to the car, and no doubt I’ll smile to anyone I pass in the street, they'll probably think I’m mad, I'll prepare something nice for dinner, your favorite and open a bottle of wine.

Love.
xx

~o~

Think about it, now who do you think wrote it?  I'm guessing some of you recognized it as begin writing by our own Ronnie of Heart and Soul. She is so darn good - her writing draws me in just like I'm there. Thanks Ronnie! Now if you do get any more time to write… and if anyone else gets some time to write send your stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Things are okay

You are all very kind to be concerned (and some – Sonny, Minelle, Terps – were getting down right bossy) and I did listen to everyone. I went to the doctor today during my planning. It’s very convenient to have the doctor right across the street from my school.

She did an EKG and there are no sigh of heart problems. No problems with my ears, my sinuses, no signs of TMJ – in other words she says there is nothing wrong either. Except that my jaw hurt. Of course, today it really hasn’t hurt much. So confusing. She gave me Naproxen to take for a couple of weeks to take care of any inflammation and suggested that if there is pain after that to have the dentist do some x-rays. I’m going to try Sensodyne as Kathy suggested. Hopefully all this will get a handle on this problem.

Now moving from the pain in my jaw to the pain in my ass – my boss. He avoided me like the plague today, which suited me find. Meanwhile the angry mama continues her attack on Mr. K by going to the superintendent. I’ll give the woman credit – she surely is energetic. I feel sure boss is letting this go on hoping she will be the catalyst for pushing Mr. K out. I wrote the following email to the boss, I mean, if age doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak your mind what good is it?

Boss,

I know this is your situation to handle and you will handle it the way you feel best, but I have a suggestion I feel you should consider.  Johnny’s mother is not happy with Mr. K. She never will be. She has made it clear she will never be satisfied with anything Mr. K does. My recommendation would be to move Johnny to another math class. I’m sure you are hesitant to make this change, however by moving Johnny you can reduce the stress and opportunity for conflict for the student, the parent, Mr. K, our team and the administration. I worry that leaving this situation as it is, with her being so unhappy with Mr. K, will set both Mr. K and Johnny up for failure.

Although moving a child to another classroom is not something we would ever do on a whim, I think we all realize that there are times when the move is best for everyone involved.

Thank you,

PK

I feel sure he won’t make the move because he want’s Mr. K to fail and would be willing to sacrifice the child to allow this to happen. He’s a control freak and would feel like he ‘lost’ if the move was made.

I don’t expect him to respond to my email, but I feel better having made the recommendation and by doing it on email there is a record. I'll try to hush my fussing now and get back to the fun stuff.

Fight at school

I had a fight with my boss yesterday. Now that’s not really unusual, I fight with him daily; it’s just that usually the fights are confined to inside my head. Not so yesterday.  We had a crazy mama come in last week. She wanted to talk to the math teacher so I just planned to go in and give her the social studies grades and get out, there is usually little joy in parent conferences. But this mama was nuts and I wasn’t leaving my partners alone with her. She accused us of not teaching her child anything, that we were prejudice because he is Hispanic, that we expected him to be a custodian – but she has decided he will be a doctor.  She rarely let us speak and over talked us when we tried.

The truth is she has a pretty nice kid and very bright. Problem is he doesn’t want to do his work or study – strangely enough that causes his grades to go down. After letting her have her say and that ‘we’ (mostly one teacher) weren’t doing our jobs I told her, “From what I can see you are doing a great job as his mother, and I can assure you we are doing our jobs as teachers. It seems the one not doing their job is your son and until he decides to do the work there is not much you or we can do for him.”

The mom accosted the boss in the parking lot Monday morning  to tell him her version of what was said at the meeting. And nearly everything she told him was untrue. She basically took everything she was accusing us of and told him we said it. I’m sure she heard that, she just didn’t realize it was all coming from her.

At planning Mr. K was to report to the office. Now you know if you’ve read here long Mr. K and I aren’t the best of friends, but after working with him for several years I feel more like an exasperated mother than an enemy. The administration is blaming him for things he has not done and demanding things from him that they demand from no one else. It’s getting my back up.

In an email the boss sent to Mr. K, he outlined all the mother had said and said he wanted to meet with Mr. K at planning time. Megan and I, who had been at the meeting, decide to go with him as support and as witnesses.

The boss refused to allow us in. I tried to speak to him as he walked into his office, but as he always does when I try to speak to him he kept walking. Slightly louder (but I swear, not yelling) I tried to say, “You better listen to us because we were at the meeting and heard what she and Mr. K said.”

He blazed out of his office half way through my sentence, seeming quite angry, saying, “This is not how we’re handling this. I’ll speak with you later.” And disappeared into the office with Mr. K and the vice principal. To say I was pissed would be an understatement.

We waited – mostly as a show of support for Mr. K, for nearly an hour. Then he asked Megan and me to meet with him. As he ushered us in, I pulled out my phone – very obviously, to tape the meeting. Megan told him what had actually been said at the meeting. I remained too angry to do much talking. Then he asked Megan and the VP to leave and for me to remain.

I won’t go into all the details, but we each aired out some of our feelings and disagreements. I was able to state my piece and despite how angry I was I managed to be polite and professional – and I didn’t cry, which is a problem I sometimes have when I’m very angry. I was proud of me. I have tenure and one year to go, he doesn’t have much to hold over me and by the time I left his office he was apologizing to me.

So I guess you would say things are tense at school. But if he pushes too hard I have one back up – thank to all of you for listening to me for so many years, I now know how to write. I can state my positions well, and I can be persuasive if necessary. In other words I have a computer and I’m not afraid to use it. I’ve been around long enough to have lots of friends at the education center. Here’s hoping today is a better day.

Do we have a dentist out here?

I’m hoping for a little medical advice here.  I’ve had a toothache for about two weeks now, but I don’t know which tooth. It’s not an awful one, but it’s there. After the first week I made an appointment with my dentist – after a careful exam he says I don’t have a toothache. I beg to differ.

Actually he is a great dentist and he really did a through exam. He mashed each tooth, he gently tapped each tooth, the picked at each tooth. Nothing he did made me come out of the chair. Nothing he did was particularly painful, but I have an ache in my jaw.  It’s on the left side, but I can’t even pinpoint if it’s an upper tooth or a lower tooth, I have some pain in both areas.

I had a crown on that side about a month ago, but neither the dentist nor I think it’s that. The pain is easily taken care of, a couple of Advil and there is no pain for twelve or more hours. But it does come back.

I’ve had my wisdom teeth removed, I don’t grind my teeth and I don’t have TMJ to my knowledge – and now I don’t know my next step. I don’t know exactly what the problem is, the dentist doesn’t know what the problem is. What do I do now?

Fantasy Friday - Busted!

Happy, happy Friday! I’m excited today because we have a brand new story! One of my wonderful readers decided to ‘jump in’ as she put it. From what she said this is the first story she has written a she did a great job. At this time she wishes to be anonymous, but she did share that, “I have been married to my high school sweetheart for almost 20 years.  We have two kiddos and live in the West.” I’m hoping she really enjoyed writing this story and might just pop in again – shoot you know me, I’ll be trying to talk her into blogging before its over. But for now I just hope everyone will makes her welcome.

Please enjoy…

Busted!

I was busted and I knew it.  As I sat on the side of the road as the traffic flew by my staled car I contemplated how to notify my husband.  My husband, Daniel was an easy going guy and very fair but this was no doubt going to rattle his cage.  I decided a text would be in my best interest.

“Hi babe I need your help.  Ran out of gas on the way to get kids from school.  Kathy is going to pick them up for me.  Can you please swing by and pick them up on your way home?  AAA will be here in 45 minutes.  Thanks!”

Only two simple words was his reply, “Call Me.”

Crap!  I just couldn’t face the music of my crime yet so I replied back, “Phone is going to die.  Please get kids.”  I knew it was a lie when I sent it but I didn’t want to talk. 

 “Yes, leaving now to get kids.  Where are you?”

“I’m on Victor Street.  It’s cool though.   I already called AAA they will be here soon.  I will meet you at home.”  I really hope he will meet me at home and not here.

His quick response left me wondering, “See you in a few and we will be discussing this.”

Well, that definitely told me how my evening was going to go.  I had to try and save face a little bit, “I’m sorry babe.  I love you.”

All I could do now was sit and ponder the day’s events.  I knew my procrastination was going to bite me sooner or later.  I really hadn’t been motivated lately but yet managed to fly under Daniel’s radar so he hadn’t noticed the little things yet.  Well it would all be glaringly obvious when he walked in the door today.  The dishes were not done, the clean laundry was piled on the couch, and the beds were not made.  Lately I have managed to fly around the house and get everything done after the kids got home with a few minutes to spare before Daniel walked in the door.  Daniel had asked me last night how much gas was in the car and I told him it was fine.  I knew if I told him how low it was he would have taken it up and put gas in it, but he looked tired and had a long day.  I suppose he won’t forget that little conversation either. I had definitely sealed my fate on this one.  I couldn’t even make excuses for my laziness and procrastination.  My only question now was, how bad is it going to be?  It had been many months since I had messed up like this.

Just then I saw my concerned man pull up behind me.  I knew by the grey look in his eyes and the tightness of his jaw that he was angry.  He walked around the passenger side of my car and told me to come out through the passenger door because the traffic was so heavy.  Although I dreaded seeing the disappointment in his eyes I was glad he came, even though I told him not to.  As he helped me out of the car he pulled me in for a hug.  Then he whispered in my ear, “You, my dear have some explaining to do.”  This sent shivers down my spine and into the pit of my stomach.  I couldn’t look him in the eye and he knew it.  So he simply lifted my chin up, gave me a quick kiss, told me to take the kids home and he would take care of my car.  I do love his dominant nature but I knew being submissive later tonight would not be so easy.

I drove away to the sight of my unhappy husband leaning against the bus stop just as the tow truck driver appeared.  Driving home with my chatty 5 and 7 year old gave me no time to think.  At least not until my 7 year old informed me that “Daddy was not very happy.”  He had told the kids that mommy had put herself in danger by running out of gas on the side of the road.  My 5 year old then chimed in and told me that “Daddy was really mad when he saw where I had run out of gas.”  He said not only was running out of gas dangerous but I had put my safety at risk.  All I could do was agree that I had not made good choices today.  Then I told them we were going to play the quiet game the rest of the way home.

I had just got the kids started on their homework at the table and ran to the bedrooms to make the beds when Daniel walked in the door.  Both of the kids immediately stopped what they were doing sensing my tension.   I knew he could see the tears forming in my eyes.  Always calm, my Daniel gave me a hug and a kiss and told me since I had such a rough afternoon I could go lay down for a bit.  At least he eased the kid’s fears and they set back to their homework.  Honestly I couldn’t move my feet fast enough.  Once in our room I flopped myself down on my bed and let the tears flow.  They were tears of frustration and disappointment.  I just closed my eyes for a moment to help the stinging of my eyes.

I woke up a little while later to the sounds of my kids playing outside and Daniel brushing my hair away from my face.  I kept my eyes closed, but my observant husband said he knew I was awake.  So I took the opportunity to snuggle into him as he lay beside me.  I felt him chuckle as he said, “Your cute but your still in trouble.”  I muffled back, “I know.  I’m sorry.”  He called me out on my lie.  “Your not sorry, yet.  Your just bummed you got caught.”  Darn it, my man knows me to well.  He got up and sat on the small love seat that overlooked the front yard and the neighborhood kids playing.  He opened his arms and called me over.  I reluctantly took a seat beside him.  I had already decided I would just confess it all, but speaking the truth wasn’t easy.

He asked me to tell him what my day had looked like.  It was really very simple and I had thoroughly enjoyed my day until the moment I ran out of gas.  I took the kids to school, came home for a while, went to lunch with some friends, and then left to get the kids.  I had definitely lost track of time at lunch which is why I didn’t stop to get gas on the way to get the kids, fearing I would be late to get them.  I told him the little thingy told me I had 4 more miles when it ran out of gas.  Needless to say, he didn’t care and it didn’t help my case.  We both knew I had broken the ‘don’t let it get lower than ¼ of a tank’ agreement.

Daniel then started asking the questions. “So last night when I asked you how much gas you had, was it at or above ¼ of a tank?”  No Sir.  “When you took the kids to school this morning did you realize how low it was?”  “Yes sir.” I whispered  “After you came home from dropping the kids off, what prevented you from doing the basic upkeep of the house?”  Oh man, so he did notice the dishes and the laundry.  “The tv and texting,”  I sighed.  

“I hadn’t noticed that the house was not being kept up until I really looked today.  The bathrooms have not been cleaned in at least a couple of weeks and the floors are sticky.  When was the last time you vacuumed?”  Daniel inquired.  “I don’t remember,” I said quietly.   I could sense his frustration as he asked me what was going on, since I normally don’t have problems keeping with our agreement.  I was honest and told him I just hadn’t felt like it.  That really didn’t settle to well with him.  Once again I felt his hand under my chin as he lifted my face to see my eyes.  Then he handed me my cell phone and said, “It’s fully charged by the way.”  He knew by my surprised look that he had caught me in a lie.  He quickly stood me up and landed three powerful swats on my behind.  He then guided me over to my corner and told me he would be back.

My corner and I have a love, hate relationship.  I only visit when I am forced to, which means when I am in trouble.  However it provides me a little bit of peace before the storm fully arrives.  I can hear my husband call the kids inside for the night.  The rumble of his voice as he takes care of the kids is soothing to my soul.  He really is a better father than I ever could have imagined.  I hear his footsteps coming down the hall and sense his presence in our room.  I know not to turn around until I am called.  He once again calls me over to sit with him on the love seat.  Our love seat is our special place.  It’s our place talk and discuss everything, good and bad.  For me it’s a sanctuary where I can confess my wrongs.  I often learn my fate sitting on his lap sitting.

I slowly shuffled over to him and curl myself into his lap.  I try to bury my head into his shoulder.  He gives me a quick squeeze hug, but he isn’t going to let me get away from hiding from him.  He tells me to look into his eyes.  I do, and I can see the resolve in his eyes.  I know he doesn’t like to punish me but this time I have really left him no choice.  I know that.  His lecture begins, “Amanda, first I apologize to you.  I should have noticed you slacking off and helped you get back on track.  We both know you have a habit of procrastinating but this time you were able to slip under my radar and I didn’t notice.  While you were napping I sat with the kids as they did their homework.  I was surprised at how quickly they were finished.  I asked them why it normally takes them until after dinner to complete it.  They informed me that you are busy picking up things and cleaning while they are trying to do their homework, so they are not getting any help until after your done.”  I dropped my head and stared at my hands.  My secret tactic was found out.  It had worked great, even though it was short lived. 

He continued, “Things are going to change, darling. We will sit and have a little chat each morning about what your days look like.  You will not be going anywhere during the day until all of your household responsibilities are done.  Then you will shoot me a text to let me know they are completed.  After that any errands that need to done will get completed.  Only after that will you be able to meet up with your friends.  You will have plenty of time to catch up on everything since you are grounded for the next week.  You will take the kids to school and pick them it.  That’s it.  Am I understood?”  

“Yes sir,” I replied.  

“As for running out of gas you will be writing me a paper tonight.  We agreed to this and you are going to tell me why we agreed to keeping ¼ of tank in the car.  Do you have any questions about what I expect?”  Daniel asked.  I shook my head no because I had learned long ago what was expected when he assigned me a paper and I hate it.  However, I am smart enough not to argue.  I felt I was getting off easy.  A paper to write and grounded for a week, I’ll take it.  I looked up and realized he wasn’t done yet.  “You lied to me twice.  Last night when I asked you about the gas in the car and today when you told me your phone was running out of battery.  You know I expect honesty.  It breaks trust and is not healthy for our marriage.  For those lies you can expect to feel the hairbrush.  You will feel the belt for putting yourself in danger today.  If I haven’t made myself clear yet, I will not tolerate this type of behavior.  I will make dinner, while you work on your paper.   Once the kids are in bed we will take care of your punishment. “ Daniel stated.  Now my tears flowed.  He gave me a hug, kissed my forehead and helped me up.  As he walked out the door I sat at my computer to start my paper.  I heard my little one ask daddy where I was.  He simply stated I had work to do on my computer and would be out for dinner.

Dinner was a simple affair, grilled cheese sandwiches, salad, and soup.  The evening passed quickly and soon I was tucking my kids into bed.  I was dreading what was to come but anxious to get it over with and move on.  I walked into our bedroom and saw the hairbrush on the bedside table.  Daniel had just started pulling the belt from the loops on his pants.  I swear he waited for the moment I walked in the room before he started to unbuckle his belt.  He knows how much it unnerves me, even if I do find it a bit sexy.  He walked over to the bed, sat down, and patted his lap.  I walked over and laid myself across his lap, resigned to my fate.

Later that night, as I was laying in bed, with my backside on fire I vowed not to get myself in that much trouble again.  I knew from his first swat that he wasn’t going to go easy on me.  I felt every bit of his displeasure.  I was truly sorry now.  The last time I had been punished like this was years ago when I tried to beat the train.  Yea, I have never, nor will I ever do that again.  If I was honest with myself I would admit that I forget how bad a punishment can be, especially when it’s been a while.  Which it often is since I follow our rules for the most part.  This moment as I lie here, snuggled into my Daniel, as he rubs my back I can’t imagine our lives any different than it is.  There is an intimacy in our dynamic that I crave and will never give up.

~o~

Thank you my anonymous friend. I hope the whole process - writing and seeing it here has been a fun experience for you and I really hope you will keep in touch and write more for us sometime. Now everyone knows what I'm going to ask - come on, it time to try a story for yourself. If you'll share send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com