Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Why I Would Make a Horrible HOH

Depends on your definition of horrible.  By most standards, I would think I'd be pretty bad.   But, if the HOH is supposed to be picking up on everything his wife is doing wrong, then I would be very good at that. However, if you don't like to be micro-managed...... then I would be awful at it.  And would I ever show mercy?  Pffft.  That would be like me playing shortstop back in my day and not thinking, Hit the ball to me.  I dare you.  Come on, right here., anywhere between 2nd and third base.  And then the batter swings and connects with the ball because our pitcher really was a belly itcher ......and I dive to my left , one awesome feeling at the timing of this as the ground knocks my cap off and the ball catches in my glove and it snaps shut with a tiny but firm squeeze of my left hand, a quick stand and a twist to right my body, and then the delivery of the ball to first base (we really did have a great first baseman so credit to her also).  Yeah, that's what I thought.  You are so out!!  Now go sit down!!!!  See what I mean?  Not very nice.

Although I am currently working on it, I don't even give myself many mental breaks some days.  As a matter of fact, I do not care for one of the women that lives inside my brain.  (You know there is more than one in there!)  Well, this particular one insults me all the time.  If I could do it safely and with no pain, I'd get the red Dirt Devil with that long skinny attachment tool, shove it in my ear, and suck her out .....headfirst.   (I am not sure which ear to vacuum first as I don't know which side of my head she lives in and I should find out before I accidentally frack my skull and end up letting all the other toxic shrews who live in there leak out with their verbal inappropriateness and horrible timing.)

Thank heavens I have recently discovered Windy who is my most favorite gal that lives in my head.  I find it interesting that although the name Windy is fake, who she is and how far she has brought me in such a short time that would have taken months and months of some kind of therapy to talk out and not even there would it be safe to talk about getting spanked  ........  I really like her, which is incredible and stunning and soul shaking because sometimes we women can be kind of (or very) hard on ourselves.

Which brings me to why I feel I would make a horrible HOH.  My wife would drive me insane.  Verbally vomiting all over me every day and telling me all about her friends and their problems ......... no thanks!  Gas is 3 cents cheaper.  Whatever. Tell me when it's 2 dollars cheaper.  The neighbor's Great Dane pooped in our yard and I stepped in it... okay, that I would want to know because it's funny.  Betty made us muffins, yeah we'll use them as door stops.  Oh and if I had a wiener, it would be in her mouth all the time. For sex and to just shut her up so I can become one with rest of the game I'm watching on t.v. in silence.  And moody......  really, you have to tell me you started your monthly again?  That happens every 28 days for the past 25 years, do you have to keep telling me?  Besides, you're a crab, so I know you have it.  You hurt my feelings.. Ugh! I'm just sitting here!  Oh, and the spanking?  I'm not sure it would turn me on but her butt would be bright pink every dang day, I can tell you that much and the next day there would probably be a little bit of evidence that I had been there the previous day.

Thank God that Storm doesn't say any of those kinds of things and I would imagine your HOH doesn't either.  He is gentle and kind and thorough..... and patient with me as I keep practicing my submission.  Not giving me too many new rules at one time so that I can adjust and not be completely overwhelmed.  Storm and I only have a couple of signals currently..... his hand on the back of my neck, which makes me immediately feel all ..........jello-y and feminine and dominated.  Yummy. This can happen anywhere, like in the car or in the kitchen or while we're eating dinner at the counter..... and as of very recently, it can be during a spanking.  This did interesting things to my lady garden.  And, amazingly, I just now remembered that this occurred and so this was not one of those this is going on the blog moments when it happened.  But it somehow found its way here anyway!  We also have two verbal warnings such as "Be kind to yourself" when one of those shrews in my head loses control of her tongue...... and the slightly more serious, "There will be consequences," (but still kind of a turn on so,  yay!).   And he has told me that if we had more privacy in our home, that he'd have me naked a lot and my butt would be pink every day.  And as far as the wiener in the mouth thing goes, I already take great care of his although I did just spell it wrong and had to fix it because I couldn't let the big guy forget it's "I before E except after  C."

However, if I were an HOH, I would have more signals than a third base coach throwing junk signals at the player in the batter's box.  If I grab one of my earlobes, it means listen.  Swipe an eyebrow with my finger means I will give you something to cry about.  Pulling on my lower lip means watch your mouth.  Clap the hands once means you're getting spanked tonight.  Clap them three times means you won't be able to sit down afterwards.  Smile big and show my teeth means just kidding ignore all previous signals.  Grabbing my crotch like Michael Jackson ..... well that one is self explanatory.  Thumb and forefinger to the rim of my baseball cap, and yes, I'm wearing one, but it's hot pink like the color of her rear end, means you're doing all right, lady, keep up the good work. The Nyuk Nyuk signal simply means we're watching the Three Stooges tonight.  And then just to keep her on her toes, I would change the signals every day because that's how you play the game. 

So be glad I am not your HOH and believe me, I wouldn't want to be my own either!


Saturday, May 26, 2018

Upon Love Letters and Ode to the Long Email


More than one of you have left comments on my blog using just a handful of sentences that perfectly sum up what it took me 5 long paragraphs to explain. And that truly cracks me up every single time and really makes me laugh at myself.  So, yes, so far, my posts are long. I’ve also been told a few times in one way or another, none offensive, by a handful of people, that many of my emails are long. And I’m about to use a lot of words to explain why.

Storm and I were apart 9 hours of driving time when we went to separate colleges a quarter of a century ago. There were only letters exchanged. I still have them. They still smell like my old perfume and his Drakkar Noir, which was kind of like Axe Body Spray of the 80’s. We were only allowed to call once a week on Sunday nights after 11 pm when the rates were lower. So the letters were our lifeline to each other. We tried to write several days of the week even if it was just a quick “I love you, studying for finals today,” type thing. Once we were engaged and planning to be married within 7 months, some of those letters got steamier, but I am sure now if I read those particular ones, I would read the terms we used for our private parts (medical terms) and that would dry my insides up faster than the Sahara Desert at high noon. But, we were young and frisky, frustrated, couldn’t wait for our honeymoon, and thought it was sexy at the time.

I remember the little college post office boxes …. I’d put my tiny key in my assigned box and peer inside hoping to find a secret little prize waiting for me in there. It was my letter from Storm, my fiance, and the man to whom I would submit myself completely to but not in this new WTI way until so many years later. The note would get me through the day or the next few days until I’d get another one or if it was time for a phone call and I could hear his voice. Even now, in my mind, I can still see his handwriting on the envelope…... his small printing slightly slanted but mostly vertical because he’s a lefty. I’d think about the way his wrist would curl in like he was one-hand arm wrestling his pencil in the way some of you lefties scribble, I mean write.

So, to me, emails are like letters that I’m eagerly anticipating to give to someone I treasure. They are bits and bytes that await in someones electronic mailbox for them to look forward to opening. (Unless Blogger notifications has recently decided to screw with you, and not in a polite way.) There is no rustling of the envelope, smell of the paper, or pencil smudges to wash off your hands. There is no stamp or envelope to lick anymore that tastes like bad smelling perfume. The pleasure for me in sending them is mostly something for the receiver to enjoy when she has time.

I can make emails much shorter and do so when it is a simple answer or if I’m actually “chatting” via email real time with someone. Otherwise, I am thorough. I also realize there are different types of emails: work (not fun, please do keep it short), school, forwarded jokes, bills, receipts…….. I am not talking about those kinds of emails. It's not a text where someone might need immediate attention (even that I can mostly likely wait until later) or a phone call I have to answer right away.. Nor is it like when someone is knocking on the front door and you have to immediately go over and answer it. (Okay, I have hid from the men sporting buzzed haircuts, ties and white shirts, actually hushed and ducked down with my then three year old and hid…… because they are from The First Baptist Church and I am already saved but they are not going to believe me no matter what I say and I don’t want to talk to them. (Unless they have candy.) Back to the email. If I don't have the time to read, I wait until I have time. There is no rush on sharing and absorbing and thinking. Emails may be long or short and I do not care either way as long as they are meaningful.

Consider the following scenarios. “Did you make it to the grocery store yet?” “No.” And there you go. That is fact. Also, too direct and empty for me. I want to tell the person that I woke up with a migraine and have been nursing myself back to health and cannot drive just yet….... Or if the answer is yes, I want to tell her that I was on my way, but there was a dead raccoon in the road with a helium balloon tied to its foot and a sign that says, “Get Well Soon.” So who cares if I made it to the store because that was freaking hilarious and tonight, we’re ordering pizza for dinner!

For you number people:
  1. This is extremely personal information I am sharing for the first time, with the world. (minus six billion, nine hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand and nine hundred and ninety-nine people). So 1. 
  2. I type much quicker than I speak……. So be glad this isn’t a phone call. And no, I do not mean that I am slow in the head.
  3. I enjoy writing certain elements when I highly suspect it is going to make you laugh hard or think hard. 
  4. Please consider taking an Evelyn Wood course on speed reading. 

And finally, for you flow charters:   Answering the question, "Did you get your hair cut today?"





In conclusion, it’s your email and your time so do whatever you want. But, to my fellow long emailers ……… just do what I do whenever someone mentions it :  Apologize, take out 2 paragraphs, and shrink the font.

Friday, May 25, 2018

Honestly Quiet - Grow with Me?

We girls have that XX chromosome thing that sometimes makes us feel like we have to share everything on our minds to whomever especially if we're feeling emotional about something or God forbid, we get our feelings hurt.  Yeah, well feelings lie to us all the time. And when we pay too close attention to some of them, it only gets us into further trouble.  And because of that, I truly believe that honesty is not always the best policy.  (I have been guilty of this recently.  So please know when you read this that it applies to me and whether or not it applies to you is.... well, up to you as I do not know your story.  You can read it and watch me grow as a woman, TTWD/WTI wife and online friend and be here right alongside with me as I do so.  Or you can read it and apply it to your own life where you see similarities and I will be right here alongside you.  Or you can stop reading now, obviously, and wait for a funnier post. But, I would like to ask you so very sincerely to stick around and grow with me and share with me your important and meaningful  thoughts in the comment section below.)

I am not saying dishonesty is ever the right answer. What I mean by needing to be honestly quiet is that we should  more often keep something in our spirits and between ourselves and God (or whatever your beliefs are) before we open our mouths or our phones and our laptops and wound a loved one because we are overcome with our feelings of absolutely having to share every thought, opinion, and emotion that comes into our brains.  But, I feel hurt. Yeah?  Well, most likely so does she/he even though that wasn't your intent and it most likely wasn't hers/his either.

I would so much more rather be hurt than hurt somebody especially Storm or someone else in my life whom I cherish.  Feeling hurt is hard to swallow, but I think I need to take more time with it .......... when things go wrong I believe we have simply 2 choices.  We can try to resolve it or dissolve it.  Resolving means having to work it out verbally and emotionally with the other person.  If this is our husbands we're talking about, then resolving it is most likely the most common thing we all try to do. That is a lot of what we do in domestic discipline relationships.  But if that resolution isn't coming forth and we ignore the fact that perhaps we should just dissolve it within our own feminine inner talk and then Let.It.Go., we're going to get spanked and we should.

While I will never write anything disrespectful about Storm,  I absolutely have some work to do with being respectful to him in every day life.  He thinks I show respect more often than I think I do........ and I am sure we are both partially right and we are working on it together.  Him noticing the disrespect and following through with discipline..... me recognizing changes that need to occur in myself within our marriage and actively, on purpose, I am determined to be more respectful. And quiet. More quiet.

I am heartbroken and that is awful enough when someone else is the cause, but this time I did it to myself.  I am not a new TTWD wife, but I sometimes feel like one because of all the stops and starts.  I have never cried before, during, or after a spanking.  And now, I am crying as I write this before the next one even happens and I will not be surprised at all if I cry during it or afterwards.  I told this to Storm and he said, "That's okay if you do."   Yesterday, he was standing between my legs (clothed) helping me process all of this as I (also clothed) was sitting on the side of the bed with him wrapped in each others' arms.   "You're a wonderful man.  You are truly just an incredible husband and human being."  He starts to do that thing where one person begins returning the compliments, but before he can even get more than one word out, I hug him tighter and just very gently say,  "Please don't say the words back to me."  He is quiet and graciously allows me to continue.  "I am so sorry that I said that to you about being bored.  I am so so sorry."   And since I posted What Not To Say 4 days ago, I have had to reprocess it all over again because of the incredible feedback that I frankly, was not prepared for.  I am here to share. I am here to learn.  I am here to laugh.  And I am here to be told directly, but kindly, when I am wrong in my efforts as a TTWD/WTI wife.  But, it hit me hard and I took it to heart, yet I am not mad at anyone and would rather the truth be spoken in love any day of the week, which is what all of you did in your honest, sweet, wise, funny, and heartfelt comments.  I love and appreciate every single response.   So, I thought I had processed all of it when I wrote the last blog entry, but I hadn't........ I have never been more ashamed in my role as a submissive wife.  I apologized again to Storm in a very sincere way.......... and he told me that he had already taken care of the issue when he spanked me the 2nd time that day.  He said we already dealt with it and that I didn't need to feel bad about it because it was resolved.  He holds me tighter and is not upset with me and says these gentle words to me, "We make a good team, Babe."  And three days later, during a role affirmation spanking, he tells me several things, but one central point is that he forgave me already and that I need to forgive myself.  And now, I believe that I have. And I thank you, dear Readers and Bloggers....... for helping me grow.  Through your humor and honesty and sweetness, you helped me through something that I was not aware of ......  that this thing wasn't dissolved within my own mind and heart.  Until now.

I grew up in a home that yelled. (The people, not the house... I'm not that nuts.) Screamed. Cried. Fought..........yet loved fiercely and deeply....... Isn't that an interesting contrast?   I felt loved and that I was the most undeserving, ungrateful kid on the face of the earth at the same time. It was very confusing.  I learned sharing good feelings was fine, but sharing anything other than that was met with punishment, silence, guilt, and emotional blackmail and rarely an apology.  And so sometimes, I have a hard time with my words when I feel negative emotions.  So I'll just often dissolve my perceived (and sometimes imaginary) hurt to begin with to avoid the possibility of hurting someone else's feelings.  But, that's not fair, one might say Maybe not.  But, that's the way it is sometimes.  As I reflect on things we have been through here in our home that aren't appropriate for me to write on this blog at this time, I remember where we were  and how far we have come.  So the not fair thing?  It's not really that big of a deal in the great scheme of life.  Besides,  I'm strong and I will get over it.  And Storm is right here with me, just a half step in front of me, encouraging me, loving me every single day and so I am even stronger.  We are stronger.


My husband is a reasonable guy and has always been a peacemaker.  I am, too, mostly.  I can count on one hand the times in our marriage where I have seen or heard him really angry and believe me, it scares me, not because he is mean, but because I know I have done something to really really upset him.   I have a very specific memory of one of these times and it was pre-dd days and he was not at all authoritative.  We had been bickering and by that I mean that I was yapping at him but not yelling.    (That is one thing he would not put up with even then.  He grew up in a household that was too quiet.  Peaceful?  Yes.  Good communication and affection? No. Storm and I have found our own balance in our home.)  So I think it was one of the most dominant times I have ever seen him but I didn't know what it was at the time ....... and my reaction now that I look back on it was very interesting and foretelling of our domestic discipline future, but we had never heard of such a thing back then.   Anyway, I believe I gave him the old, "Whatever, I'm done talking about this now.  I don't want to talk about it anymore.'  I do not remember the subject of the argument.  But, for the first time in our marriage, his voice got stern and lower and he looked straight into my eyes and said, "No, we will talk about this NOW."  I immediately stilled, thought uh oh, and I was actually scared. Not that he would do anything inappropriate, just that I had pushed him this far to make him come completely out of his normal calm demeanor.  A shadow came over him and I snapped my mouth shut faster than a Hungry Hungry Hippo chasing a marble and I gave him my absolute full attention....... I instinctively reacted to his authority.   And I am glad that I did.  And right now as I am writing this, I wonder for the first time looking back on this......if this is the root of where that yearning for submission to my husband began.  Wow.  My goodness.  These are the kind of nuggets that I am searching for and this one just sneaked up on me.   

Words have a way of doing that.  May we all be careful with them whether we're reading them, writing them, speaking them, interpreting them, or just keeping them to ourselves when we decide to be honestly quiet.  

Monday, May 21, 2018

I'm Bored -- What Not to Say After A Spanking

Image Source
What not to say to your husband after he has just spanked your rear end and it is still partially afire: "I'm bored." And then one really really shouldn't laugh and keep laughing. Me, I was laughing, he was not.
 
All I can think of is that we were disconnected. The previous day my Storm was in a very cloudy mood. It was mostly work related. He has explained to me that he is trying to decompress.  But, he looks really ticked off while he is doing this even though he is not.  He is almost always calm......and when he gets stressed, he gets calmer (I find it ironic and funny that I have named him Storm.) Anyway, let's say it is Fall and it is a nice 70 degrees with a slight humidity in the air.  Imagine the most serene picture of oh, let's say a creek and a bridge and the salmon are running (each with a tiny little gym shoe) and their tales are splashing the water as each fights his way upstream like a wet HOH on a mission after his errant wife.   You can hear the water and smell nature all around.  It's like one of those old relaxation cd's .....  Inhale the fresh air in through your nose and exhale through your mouth and ..... COUGH because of the pollution and then hack once more for the state of our EPA (asthmatics notice these things.)  It's shady but you can see some sunlight through the hills and over the huge trees.  Calm yet?  Okay, so now put that picture in black and white.  Lower the temperature to about 60.  Just a little too cold now.  Turn off the sound of the bubbling brook and it's pretty little cascading rapids.  The birds stop chirping.  The slight breeze is gone so the air feels a little thicker on your skin.  Okay, so it is calm, but it is an uncomfortable calm.  Got it?  

It didn't help that while he was in his office watching a documentary on his laptop, I was trying to clean around him. But, in my defense, you'd have to see it to believe it. It looked like the backroom at the post office exploded. Twice.  I will be shredding piles and piles of unneeded confidential papers until the cows come home. Well, it is still a mess, but it's clean (vacuumed for 2 hours, I kid you not.) Did I mention our pet bird lives in there? And he refuses to take a bath for the past 5 years?! Dander and bird seed and dust, oh my! ..... Benadryl is my friend.  Recently, I had reason and his permission to look at something in his email and I noticed a certain number in his inbox --  11,191.  I pointed at it, completely forgot what I was looking for in the first place, he was peering over my shoulder...... and I fell to the ground laughing and I heard him laughing behind me. His email inbox reflects the current state of his office.  This is so him. The absent minded professor side of him who thinks and works better in a cluttered office than a neat one.   I don't know if our internet provider is going to charge us extra when he finally gets around to trying to delete all those UNREAD emails, but I won't blame them if they do.  They will have to choose whether they bill us electronically or through snail mail.  Either way, it won't get read any time soon. 

So Storm was off in his black and white picture, I was feeling the distance, and it carried over into our role affirmation session the next day.  I just was not feeling it. Physically, yes.  Emotionally? Nope. So although I did as I was asked (told), I didn't have my normal submissive, loving reaction after the spanking. Thus, when asked how I was feeling, I said, "I'm bored." Then the laughing. But, then my naked man said he was about ready to get another implement out and use it on me. I didn't care. I repeat, I do not know what was wrong with me.  What a goofy reaction.  I did better the 2nd time, perhaps because he followed through on his threat. But, even after talking a while afterwards and me down on my knees for a bit trying to purge that stress right out of him with my mouth working him like a whistling Steamboat Willie, we just weren't on the same page.  Until later when he asked if I wanted a Peanut Buster Parfait from DQ. Oooooh, yes! And then we enjoyed our treat and laughed and talked about a future blog piece I was working on and he gave me some great ideas that were very funny. Then the laughing was appropriate. So, the spankings didn't connect us this time, but the ice cream did.

Fast forward about 2 weeks until just right this second (well, half an hour ago.)  It has been a little over a week since my launching and he gave me that time to get up and running and the space to talk to you gals online and gave me support whenever I needed it. So after some warm up spanks and what I imagine was a pink rear end because that's how it felt, he said, "This is what I like right here.  I've missed this."  Awwww, I mean, owwww.  At the end of the spanking, I was still bending over the bed and was catching my breath from the intensity of it because my bottom was more sensitive since it was MIA for over a week, and Storm says from behind me, "Are you bored?"  knowing full well that I WAS NOT.  I have never gone from an intense spanking to laughter so fast in my ttwd life.  "No, I am not bored! Are you kidding me!?"  He had used our new paddle which is non-affectionately named  THUD by me (although the jury is technically still out on this one.)  He helps me up and my head is tucked into his shoulder, his hardness against my middle. And then, "I really like your blog." My brain jolted as it shifted gears again. Spanking-Submission-Laughing-What?!
Me: "You do?"
Storm: "Yes, I check it every day and the comments too."
Me:   "You do?"  
Storm:  "Yes, and I am proud of you."
Me:  "Why?" I pull my head off of his shoulder and look up at him......... because I just can't not look at him.
Storm:  "I can tell you're having a good time and you're writing again and I enjoy reading what you write and the ladies seem to like it."   Gulp.  He enjoyed what happened next, too. 


Saturday, May 19, 2018

You Know You're a Brand new Blogger When (Commentary By Storm)

*Windy - Comments in Blue    *Storm - Comments in Orange


You know you're a brand new blogger when you ..........


1)  Sleep an average of 4 hours a night, fitfully.
1)  Flopping like a salmon on the shore.

2)  Have numerous panic attacks in your sleep (when you do manage to sleep.)
2)  While your hubby sleeps like a baby.

3)  Google your body symptoms and realize that they match those of a crack addict and the onset of perimenopause (take your pick, ladies!) 
3)  Storm advises against googling body symptoms.

4)  See a lovely lady with a large bottom and wonder if she is getting spanked at home.  And then think accidentally, "Well, he wouldn't miss that target."  I could say the same about myself but I won't.  *Gets up and examines bottom in front of full length mirror*   Yep, plenty of room.
4)  More cushion for the spankin'.

5)  Look at a thesaurus 15 times a day and then get distracted by all the pretty words.
5)  Not surprising, given the cornucopia of thoughts being expressed.  Which reminds me, I really enjoy Thanksgiving dinner.

6)  Think you will always have enough ideas for a blog, but then sit there and stare at the screen.
6)  I'm drawing a blank on this one.

7)  Are trying to really really concentrate during a spanking, but suddenly realize your HOH has just done something to you that makes you think, "Ooooooh, that's going on the blog!"
7)  Obviously your HOH needs to find better focus-inducing implements.

(8)  Keep flunking the CAPTCHA quiz when trying to comment on someone's blog.
(8)  Psst ... you're a robot.

9)  Wonder why you've had heartburn for the past 3 days and the realizing it's because you've had 15 cups of coffee in the past 72 hours.
9)  Perhaps this also explains 1) and 2).

10)  Yell at your inbox because you just got a new message -- only to see it is from yourself replying to someone's comment on the blog.
10)  The call is coming from inside your house!

11)  You consider starting a petition (or whatever one does) to get TTWD and HOH added to the online dictionary.
11)  Don't forget WTI.

12)  When you read words like "re entry" and see it as "rear entry" ...... and mixing up "flogging" and "blogging."  Windy, what are you reading?  Um, some of your blogs.
12)  Sounds like a slight case of projection with a hint of reverse Freudian slips.  Take two dozen swats and call me in the morning.

13)  When you send a blogging gal a heartfelt email and you accidentally sign your real name.  And you panic until she responds laughing at you and shares her own!
13)  There's no place like home. There's no place like home.

14)  Putting the ground beef in the pan on the stove, forgetting to light it, and just standing over it staring at it for 5 minutes until someone in the house asks if you need help.
14)  Press F5 to reload the page.

15)  Quickly develop an appreciation for those of you bloggers who have done this for so many years.
15)  Red-bunned-veterans rock!

16)  Realize why you never became a web designer or a computer programmer.  Blogger grrrr.
16)  HTML and CSS can $#@*% my ^@##=&!

17)  Appreciate the angst of Peter Parker before settling on the name Spider-man.
17)  Hot Crossed Buns?  Nah.  Fire Down Below?  Nope.  When the Storm Whispers to the Wind?  Yes!

18)  Share more private information on your blog than you do with your Dr. of Lady Parts.
18)   Look at this, but please be gentle.

19)  Your new friends who are experienced bloggers start asking you if you have come out of "Blog Fog" yet.
19)  What month is it?

20)  Realize that if you don't get off the computer and get some kinky time in with your hubby, you won't have anything to blog about !!
20)  Assume the position.  NOW!


Thank you, Storm, for joining in and making me laugh at the chaos of starting a blog! I love you!
You know I'm with you always, Windy.  I love you!

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Introduction of Whatever This Is - Our Dynamic

Around 2009'ish (neither of us recall the exact timing!) , I felt that I wanted my husband, Storm, to spank me within a disciplined relationship.  I had been researching the following topics: spanking your wife, wife spanking, wife submitting.... you know, those innocent kinds of things. Oh, and I want to be dominated.<<grin>>  I was looking for articles, journals, surveys, anything, to read that would tell me that other married couples spank and why and how! I do want to explain that what we had started out with and had done on and off over the years leading up to this point was probably a mild form of d/s in the bedroom with Storm spanking me as foreplay.  Not a teasing, playful kind of foreplay, but more dommy/subby.  It wasn't role play though either.......just kinky.  But as far as categorizing what we have been doing since around 2009, well, I am presently tired of analyzing all the definitions and these letters swirling in my head -- DD, D/S, BDSM, TTWD, and my very own WTI (Whatever This Is).  It is mind bending.  To me, there are shared elements among all of them.  So call it whatever you want once you get to know my history better.  Be sure to let me know if you come to any concrete conclusion.  ;)  Although Storm told me that he thinks we are more DIM.  I had never heard of this one before!  
Me, "What's DIM?"  
Storm, "Dong in Mouth."  
Yikes! I mean, "Yes, Sir!"  

From the time I found a very specific website until the time I decided to show it to Storm was only about one day.   The source of this so called domestic discipline is something I don't really want to even bring up, but I did swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God, when I signed up on Blogger, so here I go.  I found myself on a site, which is now defunct, written by someone called mrlovingdd.   Gasp!!! ...... Don't pass judgement, unless you're a saint, and you're not, because you're here reading my blog.   A few of you might even be repeat offenders.

The kind of articles I found were surprising. The topics were well covered. Some of the articles were about how to spank your wife, the importance of a warm-up and aftercare, the HOH being thorough, why some women want to submit and follow their husbands as the leaders in their homes, the energy flow from male to female, among others. I was fascinated. I have no idea why these things spoke to me except that I knew I wanted to feel what it is they were talking about. I had never seen anything like this.

I didn't have a plan or a presentation or an argument ready for Storm.  I just decided to show him that one website with no preparation, no written thoughts, questions, ideas, reservations, etc. The reason is because I completely trust him. I did feel vulnerable and I would have felt really stupid for a while if he had said he couldn't do this dd with me, but I felt it was worth a shot. The worst that would happen is that he would say he didn't think he could do this or that he thought it was odd or inappropriate. But, even still, I knew he wouldn't judge me and try to make me feel stupid. He would go on loving me and I would go on loving him and we'd still be happy. And he would still spank as foreplay, but just not in this new way.  

So how to tell him about this?  I felt weird, embarrassed, slightly nauseous, guilty, and  ..........turned on, if I am being honest and I may as well be since I'm already sworn in.   I gave him the web address and  then I ran and hid for about half an hour before I could face him again. I wasn't nervous because of the spanking, but I was nervous because of the kind of spanking it was. Storm spanking me as a prelude to sex was one thing, but spanking me because I wanted to actually be more submissive, to be disciplined to the point that was beyond sexually exciting.... Oh Gosh!  When I did go back and check on his progress, the expression on his face was one of interest and curiosity. It turns out, Storm thought of it as general kinkery.  But, it is not just a kink to him.  He said that reading the information and hearing me say that I was willing to be completely naked and bent over to let him spank me because I wanted to be more submissive, that I wanted to experience the feelings the articles were describing and be under his authority and leadership.... all of that was sexually appealing to him.

We read all the free information and threw out what didn't appeal to us. In our opinion, the content was on the strict end of the spectrum so we didn't want to incorporate everything we read on the site into our relationship. What did appeal to us was the explanations of reasons for the different kinds of spankings, the sort of catharsis a woman can feel after her husband has spanked her, stress relief, the message that a woman wanting to submit to her husband in body and in mind was actually okay, how the husband might feel being more dominant, etc.

I trusted him with this fragile piece of information that could have broken me in a very private place of my heart. I did not bring this to him because our marriage was troubled or boring.  I did not feel lost. I am home with him. He is the love of my life.  However, it continues to bring an intimacy to our relationship that absolutely takes my breath away. His, too. I sometimes look at him just a little bit differently, curiously.  This ability to lead and make his wants known has always been inside of him. He's just now letting more of that out. He is still working on it. I love the subtle changes I see in him. He likes the feel of those changes, I know. He likes the new softer side of me. Yes, we still enjoy goofing around and laughing our heads off together. It is not all serious business here in our home as you will see in some future posts. 

From this wife to my husband, submission is a gift I give to him every single day. And his loving dominance is the gift I receive in return. The result profoundly benefits us both.  My submission is made up of a dozen individual things that add up to being submissive overall. I can feel confident about those dozen acts, but then another thing comes along and I completely fail to yield to his authority. Starting out, I didn't know if I was capable of making the necessary changes in myself. Sometimes I still wonder. All I can do is keep working on it. I did know that this dd style of spanking would add some positive element to our bedroom life, how could it not?  
 But, I didn't know it would do so much more than that. I didn't have a clue as to the level of intensity we would feel afterwards and that the physical, emotional, and sexual awareness of each other would carry over from one day to the next, adding up to an overall feeling of submissiveness for me and dominance for him.  "Whatever This Is" isn't just about the spanking................but it doesn't hurt........ or does it?  

Saturday, May 12, 2018

To Blog or not to Blog? It Wasn't Much of a Question.


I went from being a reader to a blogger in what, for me, was an amazingly short amount of time.  I hold Meredith partly..........mostly..........completely responsible.  Here's how it went down:

Meredith, who had just blogged that she was on a road trip, zeroed in on my fishing cartoon profile picture that I now suspect slightly got one of her hairs out of place and she wondered who the flip I was and decided to investigate. (This may have interfered for half a second with that gentle leaning in she does with Jack, he may have raised his eyebrows or squeezed her leg, but she probably soothed her beloved HOH with their little bag of jelly beans and their world was quickly set to rights again.)  In reality, I was just a scared little gal who loves to fish and who had just barely crawled out of her shell and signed up on Blogger so I could begin to join in the TTWD community conversations by commenting on their posts.  I had NO intent to blog, EVER.  

There are so many words that Meredith has shared with me over the past month that  immediately became part of me and my feelings that I have for her.  But, here are the first words she ever typed to me, "Welcome to my blog .....  Let's get to know each other behind the blog."  I whooped aloud like a fan at a basketball game after the star player hit the last second shot.  Really?  One of the longest standing bloggers of  TTWD Blog Land just invited me to email her?!  

One email folks...... ONE from me to her and then this was part of her response,  "I will encourage you to begin a blog......... you knew I would be saying that."   Wait, what?!!! I did???  I knew this???  I don't think I knew this. I was actually shaking.......and interested, doggone it!  But, I wasn't going to let her know that, ever.  I responded with this though to placate her,  "Okay, I am not blogging right now and maybe not ever, but I will open it up to a possibility as someday."  I am sure now that something inside her head went off right then.... click .... I didn't yet realize then that she took that "possibility" and tucked it in her purse for safekeeping.  

To me, the blogging seemed to be off the table for now and I felt she respected that. She read my concerns and fears and enveloped me with her soft reassurances because I was so truly nervous to even be talking to her. "The jitters do go away and you are most safe here behind the blog," she soothes, and "   .......  Let me get to know you.........," she beckons.  It is truly an honor to be on the welcoming end of that kind of openness. I had seen where she invited other readers to do the same, but she was at this particular moment speaking solely to me.  So I emailed and began to open up about myself and Storm.  Then she sent me this little teaser -- her words go from" Let me" to "I will" ..."I will enjoy getting to know you....."  Which touched my heart.  Thump.

As I begin to pour out my dd/ttwd experiences to her, I happened to mention that I had an epiphany very recently and asked her to remind me later to tell her about it.  To my surprise, this led to an email from her while she was still on her trip entitled, Spill the beans ..... That cracked me up as it has been a long time since someone has said that funny phrase to me. "So do tell your realization that you have come to. When those epiphanies happen, it is always so revealing. Don't make me wait until I am home.  I really mean......... only share what you are comfortable sharing."  She really means don't make me wait until I am home.  So, I took that as both a compliment and a hilarious little push and my tummy did that little flippy, female, friendship thing. I also thought, I can't deny this clever request and this showing of her own vulnerability in not wanting to wait for my secret. I felt by her revealing that she was so excited to help me in the discovery about myself and Storm that she was telling me I was already in this short time valuable to her.  In our sincere attempts to be open and honest and vulnerable to each other, we became fast friends.  So I worked on that story for me and I worked on that story for her.  I sent her what is now a revised version of Tomboy's Epiphany that I just posted.   Here she is having me practice for a blog I didn't even know that I wanted yet.  But, she knew. Sly fox.  

After my epiphany reveal that I wrote to her, not to all of blog land (yet), she hit me with this message, "Here you bared your heart and soul ... still on vacation.... so I will just say I am enjoying getting to know you, long hair and all."  It only took me 3 days to recover from that one. 

After that, I emailed her some responses to the questions she had been asking her readers from 2013 and 2014.  Again, she responds beautifully and persuasively.  "I love what you wrote and I felt a sincerity that screams get that woman to blog."  I slept a full 9 minutes that night.

By this time, I know she is interested in some of my responses to her questions on her blog because she encouraged me to keep writing to her in this manner. "Please tell me.....," she coaxed me through her blog. And I did.  This is the point that I begin to realize I might be in trouble because I came across a question she answered about what she looks for in a potential blogger.  Wait, a second.  She's recruiting people?  I hadn't been scouted since high school sports.  With what qualities?......  SINCERITY.  Oh gosh.  I felt like there was a nut stuck in my throat and not in the way that we all (most?) enjoy.


I had told Storm at the beginning, "I absolutely will never blog.  I just want to talk as a person to the gals."   And then I would show him a few of Meredith's emails, "She's trying to get you to blog," as he grins and shakes his head at the same time.

Maybe I will start writing poorly on purpose. Not. 

Within 5 days of the first email ......... When she got home from her road trip she responded to something I had sent her.  "You wrote so well that you probably know I am going to push for you to blog. Windy and Storm is a wonderful combination and already calls forth a story and blog. Think about it. Thinking about getting to know you better. "  That's it!  I'm in!  I can't take it anymore!!!!   She doesn't know that I have already been reading weather websites learning about the relationship between the storm and the wind ....... not because I care, but I wanted a good title, doggone it. I had pages in my journal of possible titles.  I caused my thesaurus to think we were long lost friends, I mean pals. And I am researching things like is it safe to blog? (mostly but, debatable), what does it take to be a blogger?  (100 practice posts among many other practices.) Yikes!   And then I'm saying to Storm, "Do you think I could blog?"  .........  "I am thinking about blogging."  ......."I think I want to blog." ........... "I'm blogging. "   And finally, Storm says, "Which title did you name your blog?"  Yes, he had been brainstorming with me.  He helped me with a little code on Blogger.  He reads my posts.  He knows who you gals are. He has generously allowed me a copious amount of time to join you all here. And I feel so blessed.

Another email arrives.  "What can I do to convince you to blog?"  That's a new tactic. She asked me. And it made me realize for certain that if I truly did not want to blog or wasn't ready, she would have gleefully accepted me as one of her treasured readers. But, from years of experience in life, marriage, ttwd, blog land and interpersonal communication, she genuinely thought that I would personally benefit from joining the community and that I might have something valuable to contribute.  She just had to get me to see it for myself. Thus, I took some time to think in the backyard while hitting some golf balls, took a deep breath when I came back to my computer, and emailed her about my developing thoughts on becoming a blogger.  I poured my heart out again.  And this is how she responded:  "You have said a blog might be in your future. I have you now."  I grinned at my computer screen like I could see Meredith in it and thought to myself, My Little Pretty? 

Things quickly progressed from there and she was sending me writing prompts that, in part, were like this:  "Now let's pretend you are a blogger and take me through one of your spankings.... give it a try."  And thus, Thoroughly Spanked was born.  I worked hard on it for days.  She had given me the challenge of making this into a post. I had never told anyone about the very most intimate things that go on in Storm's bed, I mean over his bed.  But, I was still just writing to Meredith and I could hear her cheering me on .... give it a try ...... 

And so that, my new friends, is the story of how every day, a little fisher woman named Windy eagerly awaited visits from Meredith via email ......and  on the 15th day of her catchy ways of "getting to know you better",  she scooped me up in her net of words faster than you can say Long John Silvers Seven Shrimp Special.  And when I was ready, she took that "possibility" back out of her purse and she cast me out gracefully into TTWD Blog Land and told me, "Welcome to our little corner of the net."  

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

The Tomboy's Epiphany


Recently, while taking a shower and minding my own business, I had a realization as to at least a small part of why it is that I desire what I do.  I have spent years yearning for this elusive little piece of an explanation, have you?  I was multi-tasking under one of the shower heads, scrubbing the tile and rinsing my hair.  I am married to and share a two-person shower with the Missing Link -- I'm still waiting for the media to show up. So my mind was on Storm because 1) I was getting ready for our Saturday night date, and 2) While I was wearing my bathrobe, nekkid underneath, I went out to to the kitchen to get the scrubbing supplies and on my way back toward the shower, he came up behind/beside me and put his hand gently but firmly around the back of my neck, one of our new signals.  Oh gosh. I almost became a wanton woman right then and there, but this hussy had to shower and eat first, so I restrained my outward behavior.  But, inside? He reminded me, "Don't overdo it in there," as I tend to get overheated during such tasks. So when I got back into the shower, I was thinking of him.  His fault.  

If I just come right out and say what my epiphany was, any spanked woman who is not married to a complete jackass who couldn't find her jelly bean with 2 hands, a magnifying glass, and a flashlight would probably read my 1 or 2 sentences and say, "Oh, sure. I can identify with that... it makes me feel the same way, too," And, I have no doubt she would be telling the truth. But, I first need to share some about my history/personality in order to shed more light on my realization. 

I have been a tomboy my entire life. I was a hard core athlete. (still am in my mind, but not in body.) In junior high, the varsity coach at the high school came to watch me play.  Much of my identity was wrapped around whatever season it was -- volleyball in the fall, basketball in the winter, and softball in the spring and summer. Most girls who were not athletic annoyed me. I did not understand the hugging (unless I had just hit a double and drove in the winning run to win a state championship. hehe) The cheerleader squad and their posse (sorry if you were part of either, this no longer disturbs me) would be so excited to see each other in the hallways before school began each day. I was truly confused. You just saw each other last night at the game. Why are you hugging like you haven't seen each other all summer?  Plus, the hair... yeah, I "feathered" mine and carried a pick in my back pocket. It was the 80's. But, some of the gals looked like they instant-sprayed their bangs just before they walked straight into the wall and smacked their foreheads. Even I, cosmetically challenged, knew some day their school pictures would come back to haunt them. Anyway, when I was young, it wasn't as common for girls to play sports as it is today. Everybody who knew me at school, through family, and the neighborhood knew of my extreme athleticism. Nobody but me knew that I tried to pee in the toilet like a boy a few times when I was four years old.  (No, it didn't work.) I liked boys and I liked to smooch with them, but I liked beating them in a sport or a race, too. When I tried to be more girlish by simply carrying a purse, people noticed and teased me and I was really embarrassed. When I would wear a dress to school, it was a shock to everybody. When I became old enough to be responsible for my own hair, my mom would sometimes say, "What are you going to do with that bird's nest?" What? I had fairly straight, blonde, thin hair. I was clean and combed my hair and sometimes curled it. When I left for college, I no longer let my mom come near my hair -- to cut it, perm it (God help us all), or curl it. I decided to let it grow long as it is today. She'd offer to cut it all the time. I didn't want it cut. Trimmed, yes, but by a professional, thank-you-very-much.  I'd set it in hot rollers and wear it in long curls. At a most recent holiday family get together, I wore it in a braid with a brightly colored lady's fishing cap. My mom and my MIL were talking and I went over. MIL grabs my braid, "Do you want me to cut this?" Seriously?

In private, I ask Storm what he thinks. "I will like your hair whatever you do with it."  Me,"Thank you. But what do you prefer?" Storm, "I really like your long hair."

And now, my revelation ... So, as I am multitasking in the shower, I am mentally preparing my next steps. How will I do my hair? Will I wear it up or down?  I will put some gel in it and blow dry it from the roots out to get more body. (See, I'm not a complete idiot.) Will I use the curling iron and make it long curls? Will I let it hang around my face or will I pull it back behind my ears and secure it with a clip? I am going to look nice for Storm. For our date. We're going to talk about how we've been feeling about this thing that we do. And the way he just held the back of my neck..my breath catches.....He's going to hold my hand. And we will be whispering across the table. Will he spank me later tonight? Why do I love that? Why do I love the way he bends me over the bed knowing when I do, he will see every.private.part.of.me? Why do I feel a relieving sigh when this physical submission first begins and he spanks me and whispers things to me in his sex voice? Why do I feel right where I am supposed to be? I love the way he grabs my ponytail afterwards (or during). Why do I love that this makes him more dominant? Why do I feel so desired? Why ----  and then it hits me ---- because I feel whole... because I am offering myself up for his taking -- because he makes me feel totally without a doubt 100% like a girl.   A woman.  It's because I feel the most feminine I have EVER felt in my entire life.

Storm was there that day when I hit the game-winning double, whistling and cheering me on. At dinner, on this particular Saturday when I revealed to him my eye-opening thoughts in the shower, he told me that he has never seen me that way -- like a tomboy. We have known each other since the ages of 9 and 10 and he's always seen me for what I am -- a girl. :)

Monday, May 7, 2018

Thoroughly Spanked

If I had one word to describe the way Storm spanks me it would be "thoroughly." Early on in our exploration days, Storm was dedicated to learning this spanking business for us to develop a power exchange kind of thing. We had discussed and he made the decision that I was to call him "Sir" in the bedroom during spankings, which is humbling for me, but shows him that I respect his authority. When I first said it, it was as foreign to me as if I would have started calling him Colonel Mustard or Professor Plum .... in the bedroom.... with the......candlestick.... uh, I mean paddle. That little sucker has what is supposed to be a thin layer of padding. It lies. The "padding" is very thin and with a these tiny rubber grips that give it a little sting. Storm takes on his technique and delivery of a spanking with earnest intent. I take the receiving of said spanking very seriously as well. So does my bottom whether it wants to or not... (it wants).

I am working on my computer when Storm comes over, leans down, and speaks into my ear. "I plan on spanking you in about 20 minutes." My tummy flips. My mouth gets dry. I automatically go into humble mode. Because we have been talking and talking and talking (did I say talking?), I know this meeting of my rear end and his paddle was coming today, but I didn't know the exact time of day/night it would take place. So I finish up quickly on my computer, go in the bedroom and take off all my clothes, and I put on my fluffy bath robe. I was ready a little early, so I left the bedroom and went back to his office and stood in the doorway. Me, "I'm ready." He looks up from his desk and runs his eyes along the length of me and I instinctively look down at the floor. I am allowed to look at him, I just can't. My breathing is a little more shallow. My legs are slightly wobbly. I'm hot inside my chest. I have morphed into a manifestation of submission. And the spanking hasn't even begun. Storm, "That's what I like to see." He leads me back into the bedroom and grabs the paddle out of the drawer. I know to wait for him at the side of the bed. "Take that off." I do as I am told and remove my robe.

I am bent over the bed. My hands are above my head or holding on to the pillow upon which my face rests. I am standing on my toes and my heels are not touching the ground .This helps me to arch my lower back better and totally presents my bottom for spanking and my private parts for him to look and touch should he desire to do so. 

Storm: "I love when you bend over my bed." His bed? Hmmm. I feel him move both big hands over my bottom like an artist appreciating the feel and look of a blank slate before he begins to add some color to it. His hands still and I feel them leave my body and I know he is reaching for the paddle that he had placed beside me. Soon I feel the coolness of the paddle resting against my bottom. Then it lifts and ...

The spanks begin. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, . . . Storm says, "This is to remind you that you are mine." Ohh, possessive! And the spanks continue. I say nothing. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap... Light at first and spread evenly over both cheeks. He's firing rapidly. Then it becomes sharper and I can feel my bottom beginning to warm up. My breathing automatically begins to even out as my upper body starts to sink further into the mattress. "Did you hear me?" he wants acknowledgement.

"Yes, Sir," I whisper huskily. He gets back to the task at hand. Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! ...The taps have turned into sharper, deeper snaps. I'm still breathing in a deep, smooth, and contented rhythm.

"I love turning your butt pink." Me, too. He pauses for about 20 seconds and steps directly behind me to inspect his work...touching and grabbing. And then the swats begin anew. Harder. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! with a slight pause in between so that I can absorb the sting of each stroke just before he swings down again. He reads my body language. I do not make a lot of noise. But, he knows the expression on my face by seeing the effect on my bottom. My head turns to the side and I begin to grimace. The paddling is at its most intense now, but it is never at a level that I don't welcome or anything that would truly hurt me.  I begin to grip the sheets in my fists. I am holding my breath and and I must now purposefully make myself inhale and exhale slowly.

"Ten more. When you still feel this tomorrow, I want you to think of me."

And they're the hardest. I arch my lower back even further and proudly present my sit spot to him for the worst of it.
"Yes, Sir!" I grind out behind my clenched jaws.

And then my ears pound in the sudden silence. He is done. He slowly pulls me up and I tuck my face under his chin with my hands clenched in front of my breasts and against his chest. His arms are wrapped tightly around me. My breathing is rapid. I am trembling from the intensity of it all.  After a few minutes, I pull slightly back and look up at him and whisper lovers' words as I put my arms around him tightly.

"I love you," he responds. I say the same and then we are kissing and I am trembling for an entirely different reason and I want to climb up him. And I do, for a bit, but then still with a thoroughly spanked hot bottom, I sink to my knees and thank him in one of the ways we both like best.