I may have just been in the kitchen making chicken salad for lunch. I may have been playing a song called, "Wearing Nothing". I may have just served Storm his lunch in his office without my shirt or bra on. He might have said, "That's my favorite shirt." The next song might have been, "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." I was wearing nothing at all when he hit me with his best shot last night. He informs me that he may not eat his lunch just yet because he is taking a compliance quiz for work. I may have grinned and asked him if it was a BDSM checklist. He may have chuckled.
I may now be playing the song, "Adore you."
I adore him.
Friday, June 29, 2018
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
TTWD: Like a Good Neighbor....... Spankings are There
What if we took all the TTWD couples in blog land and we all moved into the same virtual neighborhood of life? What street would you live on? What would each house look like? Would we have an annual block party and a barbecue?
You know because I have shared as a newbie here in blog land, that Storm and I were trying to figure out where we "fit" last month. In this discussion, I was talking about the spectrum ..... and Storm classified us as French Vanilla. Me, "So we're not Vanilla ...... but if we're French Vanilla, then what does that make the couples that practice more intense things than we do? Storm's answer, "Rocky Road." I laughed at him and he laughed at himself. (Told you, own blog. Although he'd be taking half of my material with him, which is actually his material, and I am not done stealing his yet.)
Here is how you get to the TTWD neighborhood: You go north on Flogger Freeway for 2 miles and then east on Erotica Expressway for 12 miles. Take HOH Highway and turn right at the stop light (south) onto Fire Dance Freeway for 7 miles until you hit the Route (66 +3) Exit and go east for 3.1 miles until you hit the big sign on the right that says This Thing We Do Home Association. Make a right. Welcome.
The Vanilla houses on the block would look like this: They would have a deluxe barbecue grill, a fenced in back yard, and two dogs as pets. Their sex drawer would contain a vibrator, the book The Joy of Sex, and some KY jelly just to keep things moving smoothly. The sex is mostly missionary, but they do mix things up a bit. The husband knows where his wife's special button is and knows how to manipulate it and insert his plug-in as efficient as a 1960's switchboard operator. There could be a swat or two on the bottom here and there in playful fun, but the wife is hoping for something more. She's is inquisitive and is dying to talk more intimately with her neighbor just a few houses down......
The French Vanilla houses would have lots of interesting utensils in the kitchen, a coffee table book called The Little Bit Naughty Book of Blow Jobs, which they would put away when company that does not live on their street comes over. There would be a drawer in the bedroom containing several types of vibrators, some handcuffs, and many spanking implements other than what is found in the kitchen. There would be playful spankings during the day, or firm swat here or there, and regular spankings served mostly for discipline, some for fun, and some just because it's really kinky. The wives are expert blow job givers and would put the Owl on the commercial, "How Many Licks does it take to get to the Center of a Tootsie Pop" to shame. The husbands are excellent at spanking. And there are lots of candles in every room at the ready for a romantic evening. They would have either cats or chickens for pets.... but not tigers like they do at the house next door.............
The Rocky Road houses would be the scariest looking house on the block, but possibly the most interesting. Big like the Adam's Family house, cleaner, but still somehow everything there is in black and white. Some of us in the neighborhood would stay well clear of this house, but others of us would come out of our houses just to stare at theirs sometimes in wonder or with a little bit of fear. Instead of a sex drawer, they would have a sex toy crate which contains every spanking implement known to mankind and they all have individual names, a nice buffet of plugs, and some more serious restraints. Perhaps they have a play room with a refrigerator well stocked with ice cubes, ginger root, and hard liquor. Their coffee table books would be the entire collection of Sleepy Beauty by Anne Rice. We would imagine their pets would be exotic like tigers, but in actuality they'd just be Tarantulas and Ravens. Their sex could be described as scratchy........and wet. Except when they overdo it, then it is just waterlogged. (This happens in every household.)
So this TTWD neighborhood association would have to come together on a few things. We would need our own traffic cop for all of the HOH signals going on. He would rotate from street to street according to where the loudest spankings are taking place. We would vote on things like names for streets. Some examples include: Punishment Path, Lurkers Loop, Crop Corner, Paddle Place, Submission Street, Dominate Me Drive, Restraints Road, Lean In Lane, Cane Court, Writers' Way, Bend Over Blvd., and Spankers Square.
Our TTWD neighborhood association would have somewhat of a schedule. Some of us would be at Brunch on Sundays, practice maintenance on Mondays, we'd be be grateful on Thursdays as well as celebrate Throw Back Thursdays. Some of us would also make our contributions on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays or Saturdays....... or when we are done traveling or get back from our road trips, enjoying our grandchildren, and our fishing trips (okay, my fishing trip.) We would send the men out to golf a couple of days a week so we gals can get together and have coffee or lunch and share our spanking secrets, sex toy reviews, new books, and why we did or did not get spanked yesterday. Each house would be equipped with a "Do Not Disturb" sign to put in their front window outside of these regularly scheduled events for extra times of sex, play, spanking, general kinkery, and nekkidness.
There would need to be a few empty houses in each street for those of us who want to move around a little bit, experiment, or aren't quite sure where we fit yet .... not according to anyone else's standards or opinions, but just trying to find their own comfortable place. For example, someone might ask, "Where ya going this weekend, Windy?" Me, "Rocky Road. But, I am just dipping my toes in their swimming pool ...... just trying to see a little bit of what it is all about down there...... but I will be back because sometimes I'm a little scared there."
So this is what I think our TTWD neighborhood would look like. But, I do need to be careful what I assume..... because what I think I don't see at the Vanilla house may just be very well hidden and they not only serve French Vanilla and Rocky Road at their house, they've got a big stash of Moose Tracks, too.
So what street would you and your man live on?
You know because I have shared as a newbie here in blog land, that Storm and I were trying to figure out where we "fit" last month. In this discussion, I was talking about the spectrum ..... and Storm classified us as French Vanilla. Me, "So we're not Vanilla ...... but if we're French Vanilla, then what does that make the couples that practice more intense things than we do? Storm's answer, "Rocky Road." I laughed at him and he laughed at himself. (Told you, own blog. Although he'd be taking half of my material with him, which is actually his material, and I am not done stealing his yet.)
Here is how you get to the TTWD neighborhood: You go north on Flogger Freeway for 2 miles and then east on Erotica Expressway for 12 miles. Take HOH Highway and turn right at the stop light (south) onto Fire Dance Freeway for 7 miles until you hit the Route (66 +3) Exit and go east for 3.1 miles until you hit the big sign on the right that says This Thing We Do Home Association. Make a right. Welcome.
The Vanilla houses on the block would look like this: They would have a deluxe barbecue grill, a fenced in back yard, and two dogs as pets. Their sex drawer would contain a vibrator, the book The Joy of Sex, and some KY jelly just to keep things moving smoothly. The sex is mostly missionary, but they do mix things up a bit. The husband knows where his wife's special button is and knows how to manipulate it and insert his plug-in as efficient as a 1960's switchboard operator. There could be a swat or two on the bottom here and there in playful fun, but the wife is hoping for something more. She's is inquisitive and is dying to talk more intimately with her neighbor just a few houses down......
The French Vanilla houses would have lots of interesting utensils in the kitchen, a coffee table book called The Little Bit Naughty Book of Blow Jobs, which they would put away when company that does not live on their street comes over. There would be a drawer in the bedroom containing several types of vibrators, some handcuffs, and many spanking implements other than what is found in the kitchen. There would be playful spankings during the day, or firm swat here or there, and regular spankings served mostly for discipline, some for fun, and some just because it's really kinky. The wives are expert blow job givers and would put the Owl on the commercial, "How Many Licks does it take to get to the Center of a Tootsie Pop" to shame. The husbands are excellent at spanking. And there are lots of candles in every room at the ready for a romantic evening. They would have either cats or chickens for pets.... but not tigers like they do at the house next door.............
The Rocky Road houses would be the scariest looking house on the block, but possibly the most interesting. Big like the Adam's Family house, cleaner, but still somehow everything there is in black and white. Some of us in the neighborhood would stay well clear of this house, but others of us would come out of our houses just to stare at theirs sometimes in wonder or with a little bit of fear. Instead of a sex drawer, they would have a sex toy crate which contains every spanking implement known to mankind and they all have individual names, a nice buffet of plugs, and some more serious restraints. Perhaps they have a play room with a refrigerator well stocked with ice cubes, ginger root, and hard liquor. Their coffee table books would be the entire collection of Sleepy Beauty by Anne Rice. We would imagine their pets would be exotic like tigers, but in actuality they'd just be Tarantulas and Ravens. Their sex could be described as scratchy........and wet. Except when they overdo it, then it is just waterlogged. (This happens in every household.)
So this TTWD neighborhood association would have to come together on a few things. We would need our own traffic cop for all of the HOH signals going on. He would rotate from street to street according to where the loudest spankings are taking place. We would vote on things like names for streets. Some examples include: Punishment Path, Lurkers Loop, Crop Corner, Paddle Place, Submission Street, Dominate Me Drive, Restraints Road, Lean In Lane, Cane Court, Writers' Way, Bend Over Blvd., and Spankers Square.
Our TTWD neighborhood association would have somewhat of a schedule. Some of us would be at Brunch on Sundays, practice maintenance on Mondays, we'd be be grateful on Thursdays as well as celebrate Throw Back Thursdays. Some of us would also make our contributions on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays or Saturdays....... or when we are done traveling or get back from our road trips, enjoying our grandchildren, and our fishing trips (okay, my fishing trip.) We would send the men out to golf a couple of days a week so we gals can get together and have coffee or lunch and share our spanking secrets, sex toy reviews, new books, and why we did or did not get spanked yesterday. Each house would be equipped with a "Do Not Disturb" sign to put in their front window outside of these regularly scheduled events for extra times of sex, play, spanking, general kinkery, and nekkidness.
There would need to be a few empty houses in each street for those of us who want to move around a little bit, experiment, or aren't quite sure where we fit yet .... not according to anyone else's standards or opinions, but just trying to find their own comfortable place. For example, someone might ask, "Where ya going this weekend, Windy?" Me, "Rocky Road. But, I am just dipping my toes in their swimming pool ...... just trying to see a little bit of what it is all about down there...... but I will be back because sometimes I'm a little scared there."
So this is what I think our TTWD neighborhood would look like. But, I do need to be careful what I assume..... because what I think I don't see at the Vanilla house may just be very well hidden and they not only serve French Vanilla and Rocky Road at their house, they've got a big stash of Moose Tracks, too.
So what street would you and your man live on?
Monday, June 25, 2018
Goldfish and Spanking
My opinion about goldfish is that they are supposed be the following things: orange, tiny, only available to win from the Ping Pong game at the carnival and they're swimming upside down in clear plastic baggies of tepid water, (Windy, what is it with you and the PPP? In my defense, I am talking about the ball here and I am not obsessed with balls. Except for Storm's. And I was only afraid the first time I ever saw them. Good Lord, I had no idea. But, now he manscapes, so we're good.)....... back to the goldfish: orange, tiny, live for about 7 days, reside in a small bowl on the kitchen counter where the young kids can throw Fruit Loops in it when Mom's not looking, live alone in a one-man fish castle on a small bed of rocks, have a 3 second attention span, and stare at me like they know me and make me feel an overwhelming urge to take a second puff from my asthma inhaler.
After doing a little research, I discover that I am right about a few of those things. 1)Yes, goldfish do begin to recognize their owners, so Gill is indeed staring back at me. 2) They are often, but not always orange. 3)They shouldn't but will eat Fruit Loops or any other food they can fit in their mouths.
I am also wrong about several of my assumptions. 1) They live an average from 5 to 10 years. 2) They and their relatives can grow to be very large -- The Giant Carp is the domestic relative crossbreeding of goldfish. (Sounds like a ttwd experiment gone terribly wrong.) 3) They should not live in little glass fish bowls because there is not enough oxygen. 4) The average human attention span is 8 seconds while the goldfish's is slightly longer at 9 seconds. Really? Yes.
Goldfish do better when you give them regularly scheduled meals -- just like we gals do better with regularly scheduled spankings. If your goldfish is kind of floating at the top on his side, he has bloat from you feeding him too much, so it is recommended to not feed him for two days. Although if you eat too much cake, FFF gals, and feel a bit bloated, I wouldn't recommended starving yourself for the next two days because, well, you're not a goldfish. They can actually go 3 weeks without eating because they really good at storing fat. So we need to stop hiring the neighbor's bratty kid to come overfeed the goldfish while we're on vacation.
Like my assumptions about goldfish, I have some preconceived notions about a particular kind of spanking that I have heard a little about. It is called the good girl spanking. I have seen the term on some of your blogs, but I don't recall an actual definition.
Storm and I were going to have some alone time that we knew about later one evening, but I was pretty sure I was only up to 5 swats. "So you're going to give me a five swat spanking?" Seems like a waste of time to me unless he plans to knock me into next Friday with each swing. (He's not, nor do I want him to. Okay, maybe......into next Wednesday) And then he said something to the effect of he could add to it a good girl spanking. I freaked out. "GAH! What?!" We have NEVER talked about this.... he just invoked the 5 swat thing out of thin air last week and the fact that he even knows what a good girl spanking is when I actually do not know shocks the heck out of me. So, because I do not know what it is, I tell him. "I do NOT want a good girl spanking," and then I grin at him, "But I am up for a bad girl spanking." We don't have a definition for one of those either, but if I had to choose on the fly, I'm definitely going with the bad girl spanking just to error of the side of intensity. The terms "good" and "bad" -- neither of those are sexy buzz words for me because he doesn't call my behavior good or bad. He also doesn't call me "girl", although he does sometimes do this cute thing where he asks if I still want to be his girlfriend. (The answer is YES!)
For me, a good girl spanking would be something that has to be hard enough to turn me on, but not so hard that it feels like true discipline so I guess I could deal with that. And if Storm started calling me a good girl in certain situations, not that I want him to, but if it was something that he wanted, in the right context, I could get into that, and end up enjoying it and the sex afterwards, too.
But, like the behavior of goldfish, the term "good girl spanking" is still kind of a mystery to me and perhaps I am wrong about what it means. I imagine that it is subjective and we all have our own interpretation, right? But, because I can better wrap my head around the idea of a bad girl spanking, I would identify more with a betta fish rather than a goldfish. Betta fish fight with each other. Oh, yes, make up sex. He/she prefers to swim alone and need a comfortable place to hide in order to feel safe. I need time alone, especially to write and I do want to feel safe and that place for me is in Storm's arms.
I like the sound of all that. I'd rather have a betta fish spanking than a goldfish spanking. How about you, which would you prefer?
Friday, June 22, 2018
The Love Shack
Her name was Mrs. Methuselah and she was 127 years old -- she was our very first and very sweet landlord. She had that white hair that is a sometimes considered a crown of glory. She lived in a little white house with an apartment above her. Covered with a rippled metal roof, there was a flight of 21 long, slightly wobbled, wooden steps that ran along the outside of the house that led up to what Storm and I refer to as The Love Shack. Our humble abode was stationed about 150 feet from the train tracks. Every locomotive that thundered past for 5 years used to rattle the windows, the dishes, and our teeth while it shook the poop out of us at the same time. (At least we were "regular" back then. Maybe we should move back now that we're old. Although if we managed to make it up those stairs, we might not make it back down.)
Our rent contract was handwritten in slanted cursive writing as wobbly as those stairs by Mrs. Methuselah and it was taped to the inside of the crawl space door in the apartment. One of the few rules was "No live ins." Really? We can barely fit in here, who do you think is moving in with us? (Storms' sister for 6 weeks without an invitation is who. His parents called the night before from 3 states over to tell us she was coming to stay with us for 6 weeks.) More rules in the hand scripted writing -- "No wild parties." Oh shoot, we're wild, so this is a deal breaker. Not. The wildest party I ever had was my bachelorette party which took place in my childhood home with both my mother, who bought me a nice safe robe, and my mother-in-law in attendance. But, thank God she had the good sense to buy me my favorite perfume as my present instead of some skimpy nightie. I could just imagine putting that on and having Storm getting turned on as he is complimenting me on my little outfit and I would say, "Thanks, your mom got it for me." Total buzz kill. Storm's bachelor party wasn't much better, but at least he had a cake made of giant boobs and I know this because I ordered it. Speaking of boobs, whenever I would go downstairs to visit or give her the rent check, little Mrs. Methuselah almost always had some form of food on the front of her shirt...... a dab of mustard......mayo.... toast crumbs.... cute things like that which proved she was using her chest as her plate sometimes while she was watching television and I don't blame her one bit as I sometimes do the same. Also, she always used the term "Extry" instead of "Extra". Storm and I still say that to this day. "Is that gonna cost extry?
We made love in the car in the apartment's detached garage once. It was also the first time a very specific sexy word was said during sex. Neither of us had ever even said that word outside of sex. So when it was said ........ holy smokes........ we both exploded soon after. It helped that I had on panties that you know...... weren't really panties.... but I hate saying this particular word ....... so I will just say I may as well have not been wearing any panties at all. Got it? I whispered in Storm's ear halfway through the banquet dinner we were attending earlier that evening that I was wearing them and he took me out to the parking lot in the middle of dinner so he could see them! I just now told him that I am working our story for a post and I asked him, "Do you remember anything about the apartment we used to live in? " He responded immediately, "I remember knockin' boots in the driveway when you were wearing those crotch-less pantyhose. I remember that. Does that help?" And there you have it folks -- exactly what I was trying not to say, but since Storm said it, here it is from the HOH himself. And, yes, we were very young and still newlyweds, but we've never been a more-than-once-in-a-row type couple. (Maybe because it is so good the first time? <<grin>) Well......pffft..... 20 minutes later after the car and up to The Love Shack..... there we went again. Woot! Woot! Just like that train that just blazed by us.
Storm has just given me some suggestions to use instead of the word he used up there: "Easy access panties, the kind with a southern breeze, and panties with plenty of air conditioning down under....." This man really needs his own blog. (Whispers, "Go get him, Meredith!") I honestly think I might be earning about five swats for posting this, but it is too funny to pass up, and I'm willing to take one (or five) for the TTWD team.
"If you remember anything else about the apartment, let me know because I am working on a post." Storm, "Like having sex to Kenny G music.... does that count?" OH.MY.GOSH. Neither of us could keep a straight face if we tried that again today. No way, Jose. Gol, we were so vanilla (not that there is anything wrong with that) ........ until ....... The Love Shack is also where our first erotic spanking took place. Without any discussion that I can remember, I just handed the ping pong paddle to him and then I climbed back on top of him. And at one point, I may have whispered, "Harder." ....... Okay, I know I did.
The last interesting thing that Storm remembered was, "Scooping off a comatose opossum playing opossum at the top of those covered stairs." We mostly did not leave that little porch light on at night because of the bugs and mosquitoes that loved it up there and coveted our blood as we would be unlocking the door and trying to get in. So I stayed well clear of it all and waited at the bottom of the steps, yelling up every 30 seconds to make sure Storm was still alive and that he had not been eaten alive by a Yeti up there in the dark night.
Years after buying our first home, we'd drive by the white house with The Love Shack upstairs where Mrs. Methuselah no longer resides because she lives in The Big Upstairs in the Sky now........and Storm would say, "Yep, there's where the magic happened." Except now it happens here, too.
Our rent contract was handwritten in slanted cursive writing as wobbly as those stairs by Mrs. Methuselah and it was taped to the inside of the crawl space door in the apartment. One of the few rules was "No live ins." Really? We can barely fit in here, who do you think is moving in with us? (Storms' sister for 6 weeks without an invitation is who. His parents called the night before from 3 states over to tell us she was coming to stay with us for 6 weeks.) More rules in the hand scripted writing -- "No wild parties." Oh shoot, we're wild, so this is a deal breaker. Not. The wildest party I ever had was my bachelorette party which took place in my childhood home with both my mother, who bought me a nice safe robe, and my mother-in-law in attendance. But, thank God she had the good sense to buy me my favorite perfume as my present instead of some skimpy nightie. I could just imagine putting that on and having Storm getting turned on as he is complimenting me on my little outfit and I would say, "Thanks, your mom got it for me." Total buzz kill. Storm's bachelor party wasn't much better, but at least he had a cake made of giant boobs and I know this because I ordered it. Speaking of boobs, whenever I would go downstairs to visit or give her the rent check, little Mrs. Methuselah almost always had some form of food on the front of her shirt...... a dab of mustard......mayo.... toast crumbs.... cute things like that which proved she was using her chest as her plate sometimes while she was watching television and I don't blame her one bit as I sometimes do the same. Also, she always used the term "Extry" instead of "Extra". Storm and I still say that to this day. "Is that gonna cost extry?
We made love in the car in the apartment's detached garage once. It was also the first time a very specific sexy word was said during sex. Neither of us had ever even said that word outside of sex. So when it was said ........ holy smokes........ we both exploded soon after. It helped that I had on panties that you know...... weren't really panties.... but I hate saying this particular word ....... so I will just say I may as well have not been wearing any panties at all. Got it? I whispered in Storm's ear halfway through the banquet dinner we were attending earlier that evening that I was wearing them and he took me out to the parking lot in the middle of dinner so he could see them! I just now told him that I am working our story for a post and I asked him, "Do you remember anything about the apartment we used to live in? " He responded immediately, "I remember knockin' boots in the driveway when you were wearing those crotch-less pantyhose. I remember that. Does that help?" And there you have it folks -- exactly what I was trying not to say, but since Storm said it, here it is from the HOH himself. And, yes, we were very young and still newlyweds, but we've never been a more-than-once-in-a-row type couple. (Maybe because it is so good the first time? <<grin>) Well......pffft..... 20 minutes later after the car and up to The Love Shack..... there we went again. Woot! Woot! Just like that train that just blazed by us.
Storm has just given me some suggestions to use instead of the word he used up there: "Easy access panties, the kind with a southern breeze, and panties with plenty of air conditioning down under....." This man really needs his own blog. (Whispers, "Go get him, Meredith!") I honestly think I might be earning about five swats for posting this, but it is too funny to pass up, and I'm willing to take one (or five) for the TTWD team.
"If you remember anything else about the apartment, let me know because I am working on a post." Storm, "Like having sex to Kenny G music.... does that count?" OH.MY.GOSH. Neither of us could keep a straight face if we tried that again today. No way, Jose. Gol, we were so vanilla (not that there is anything wrong with that) ........ until ....... The Love Shack is also where our first erotic spanking took place. Without any discussion that I can remember, I just handed the ping pong paddle to him and then I climbed back on top of him. And at one point, I may have whispered, "Harder." ....... Okay, I know I did.
The last interesting thing that Storm remembered was, "Scooping off a comatose opossum playing opossum at the top of those covered stairs." We mostly did not leave that little porch light on at night because of the bugs and mosquitoes that loved it up there and coveted our blood as we would be unlocking the door and trying to get in. So I stayed well clear of it all and waited at the bottom of the steps, yelling up every 30 seconds to make sure Storm was still alive and that he had not been eaten alive by a Yeti up there in the dark night.
Years after buying our first home, we'd drive by the white house with The Love Shack upstairs where Mrs. Methuselah no longer resides because she lives in The Big Upstairs in the Sky now........and Storm would say, "Yep, there's where the magic happened." Except now it happens here, too.
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Opening up
It seems like a lot of bloggers are very organized or are really working on it, have set schedules, routines, etc., and good for you. Here though? Not so much. Storm and I are more casual,..... Seems like some of the rooms in your homes might be featured in Good Housekeeping . We're more a Field and Stream type magazine that got left out in the rain and then run over by a pick up truck. Or a 2 page paper advertisement inserted into the inner folds of the local newspaper that visually displays that of which a particular store has too much inventory and wants to get rid of at a cheap price. And now!
You already know what Storm's office looks like (I'm still shredding papers, I promise.) But, the best way for me to physically describe the inside structure of our house is "open." The foyer, the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room are all one big giant space, separated only by furniture and counter tops and complimentary colors of paint on the walls of each section. Kind of like a loft in the city, I guess, but less expensive, less fancy, and without one of those rickety-arsed elevators with a slotted wooden door that seems all sexy until Glen Close shows up in it to leave you a terrifying pot of "soup" on the stove. (Fatal Attraction) Although if you do go downstairs to our basement here, you will indeed find a bunny. But she is happy and very much alive and wants whatever food we are bringing to her NOW. She is also sweet and very appreciative and licky afterwards. Kind of like we ttwd gals are towards our men after an intense spanking. Back to our house. It is also cluttered, although I am slowly working room by room and then back to the same room to SDRR - Search, Destroy, Recycle, and Rearrange, as I have recently explained to a friend who is an inspiring rock star of organization. And since my phrasing made her laugh, of course it found its way to the blog. However, if any company was standing in my living room at this very moment, he/she/they would not be laughing. But, they might be smiling because what they don't know is that Storm and I will have hired professional cleaners in anticipation of this imaginary visit.
When I was little, my mom would clean an already very clean house to get ready for company that was coming over for dinner. I understand wanting very clean toilet bowls, but I could not for the life of me figure out why the shower and tub had to be scrubbed and bleached if these people were only coming for dinner. Like I said, all things were already clean, so why deep clean the shower? Were they coming over dirty? And if so, I wondered if they would be bathing before or after dinner because I was hungry. I did know they weren't bringing their own towels because the linen closet had to be SDRR minus the first R because we didn't recycle decades ago. To me, all the stress that she displayed and felt herself and then to us unclean children in preparation for the guests was almost not worth having the fun of company after all. Almost. These were the days when after dinner and dessert, the company would stand by the front door and tell the kids to put on their shoes and then stand there and keep talking to my parents. So the kids had at least a half hour more of playtime before they actually had to leave with their parents. And we kids were waiting for that one magical moment when the parents would decide to sit back down and have some more decaf instead of leaving just yet. And we would chant, "Coffee! Coffee! Coffee!" And then we would be off for one more round of hide-and-seek in the basement with flashlights.
These days we play a different version of hide-and-seek. It's when I pick up all the clothes and junk lying around and it is called: So-That's-What-the-Floor-Looks-Like. I believe that our home often reflects what is going on in our personal lives. I currently have 4 categories of clean: "Company is Coming,", "Good Enough", "Cheap-Enough-to-Just-Buy-a-New-One," and "Not Today, Esther." When we're in survival mode, only the very basics of things get done..... we eat, sleep, shower, talk, breathe, hug, love, pray and swear (but never at the same time), keep up on the dishes and wash the clothes even though we may all be pulling them straight from the laundry basket instead of out of neatly arranged piles of clothes in our dressers. Papers tend to collect, dust collects, that dang tax man still collects.... and the mail is delivered rain or shine because that tax man really is trying to get to us ..... although he usually owes us money every April (U.S. Tax Return Deadline Day) , so I do not understand why he is in such a rush.
We greet one another whenever one of us leaves or arrives even after a short trip to or from the store. We always say I love you before someone leaves or before we hang up the phone. The t.v. is sometimes on, but often just the picture with no sound. Storm thinks he can multitask and the kid and I just laugh at him because he looks hilarious. He is sitting in his easy chair after a not so easy day, with his laptop on his ...well, .... lap. He's facing the television, which is on, but is also on mute. He's watching some movie like Borne Identity or some spy thing he's seen a 100 times already, but he has headphones on and is watching a documentary on his laptop. With the t.v. remote in his hand. The man really is afraid he is going to miss something, but we can't quite figure out what it is. So we all just laugh about it. And he joins in the conversation between me and the kid, too, or will start one of his own with either of us. Then he falls asleep in his chair because he doesn't want to go to bed yet...... again, he doesn't want to miss anything. And then once he is asleep, the kid and I talk and he remains asleep during our light conversation, but as soon as one of us asks the other one a question.... you know how here in the US, our voices go up to a higher pitch on the last word of a question? This is when Storm wakes up and ANSWERS. CORRECTLY !!! Hilarious and inexplicable.
So, we are basically sometimes humorous and usually open people....... what you see is what you get with us. Except that Storm has those superpowers. Oh, and except for the professional cleaners doing my job, but I will put their magnet with their business logo on my refrigerator door just to keep myself honest. And so I can easily find their number again for the next time my mother visits. Let her think I am doing a wonderful job and that cleaning gene that she thought I did not inherit from her may just have settled in with me later in life. But, 20 dollars (U.S. or Canadian... whichever is worth more) , says she'll find something to de-clutter ..... probably all the magnets on the refrigerator.
You already know what Storm's office looks like (I'm still shredding papers, I promise.) But, the best way for me to physically describe the inside structure of our house is "open." The foyer, the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room are all one big giant space, separated only by furniture and counter tops and complimentary colors of paint on the walls of each section. Kind of like a loft in the city, I guess, but less expensive, less fancy, and without one of those rickety-arsed elevators with a slotted wooden door that seems all sexy until Glen Close shows up in it to leave you a terrifying pot of "soup" on the stove. (Fatal Attraction) Although if you do go downstairs to our basement here, you will indeed find a bunny. But she is happy and very much alive and wants whatever food we are bringing to her NOW. She is also sweet and very appreciative and licky afterwards. Kind of like we ttwd gals are towards our men after an intense spanking. Back to our house. It is also cluttered, although I am slowly working room by room and then back to the same room to SDRR - Search, Destroy, Recycle, and Rearrange, as I have recently explained to a friend who is an inspiring rock star of organization. And since my phrasing made her laugh, of course it found its way to the blog. However, if any company was standing in my living room at this very moment, he/she/they would not be laughing. But, they might be smiling because what they don't know is that Storm and I will have hired professional cleaners in anticipation of this imaginary visit.
When I was little, my mom would clean an already very clean house to get ready for company that was coming over for dinner. I understand wanting very clean toilet bowls, but I could not for the life of me figure out why the shower and tub had to be scrubbed and bleached if these people were only coming for dinner. Like I said, all things were already clean, so why deep clean the shower? Were they coming over dirty? And if so, I wondered if they would be bathing before or after dinner because I was hungry. I did know they weren't bringing their own towels because the linen closet had to be SDRR minus the first R because we didn't recycle decades ago. To me, all the stress that she displayed and felt herself and then to us unclean children in preparation for the guests was almost not worth having the fun of company after all. Almost. These were the days when after dinner and dessert, the company would stand by the front door and tell the kids to put on their shoes and then stand there and keep talking to my parents. So the kids had at least a half hour more of playtime before they actually had to leave with their parents. And we kids were waiting for that one magical moment when the parents would decide to sit back down and have some more decaf instead of leaving just yet. And we would chant, "Coffee! Coffee! Coffee!" And then we would be off for one more round of hide-and-seek in the basement with flashlights.
These days we play a different version of hide-and-seek. It's when I pick up all the clothes and junk lying around and it is called: So-That's-What-the-Floor-Looks-Like. I believe that our home often reflects what is going on in our personal lives. I currently have 4 categories of clean: "Company is Coming,", "Good Enough", "Cheap-Enough-to-Just-Buy-a-New-One," and "Not Today, Esther." When we're in survival mode, only the very basics of things get done..... we eat, sleep, shower, talk, breathe, hug, love, pray and swear (but never at the same time), keep up on the dishes and wash the clothes even though we may all be pulling them straight from the laundry basket instead of out of neatly arranged piles of clothes in our dressers. Papers tend to collect, dust collects, that dang tax man still collects.... and the mail is delivered rain or shine because that tax man really is trying to get to us ..... although he usually owes us money every April (U.S. Tax Return Deadline Day) , so I do not understand why he is in such a rush.
We greet one another whenever one of us leaves or arrives even after a short trip to or from the store. We always say I love you before someone leaves or before we hang up the phone. The t.v. is sometimes on, but often just the picture with no sound. Storm thinks he can multitask and the kid and I just laugh at him because he looks hilarious. He is sitting in his easy chair after a not so easy day, with his laptop on his ...well, .... lap. He's facing the television, which is on, but is also on mute. He's watching some movie like Borne Identity or some spy thing he's seen a 100 times already, but he has headphones on and is watching a documentary on his laptop. With the t.v. remote in his hand. The man really is afraid he is going to miss something, but we can't quite figure out what it is. So we all just laugh about it. And he joins in the conversation between me and the kid, too, or will start one of his own with either of us. Then he falls asleep in his chair because he doesn't want to go to bed yet...... again, he doesn't want to miss anything. And then once he is asleep, the kid and I talk and he remains asleep during our light conversation, but as soon as one of us asks the other one a question.... you know how here in the US, our voices go up to a higher pitch on the last word of a question? This is when Storm wakes up and ANSWERS. CORRECTLY !!! Hilarious and inexplicable.
So, we are basically sometimes humorous and usually open people....... what you see is what you get with us. Except that Storm has those superpowers. Oh, and except for the professional cleaners doing my job, but I will put their magnet with their business logo on my refrigerator door just to keep myself honest. And so I can easily find their number again for the next time my mother visits. Let her think I am doing a wonderful job and that cleaning gene that she thought I did not inherit from her may just have settled in with me later in life. But, 20 dollars (U.S. or Canadian... whichever is worth more) , says she'll find something to de-clutter ..... probably all the magnets on the refrigerator.
Friday, June 15, 2018
When Spanking Leads to Laughing (Eventually)
After one particular spanking, I provided Storm with some close up action with my mouth. I had been sick for a couple of weeks, so I was not able to give him this kind of attention until just then. He was standing on the side of the bed playing Naked King of the Mountain while I, His Pink Cheeked Queen, was standing on the floor in front of him. Anyway, it seemed to me to be quite exciting for him.... the evidence of his peak was there ...... and stopped..... and then there it was again!! At least that is what it looked like to me. I gave him a moment and then I asked him. "Um... did you just ...do .. that.... TWICE??" He looked down at me and laughed out, "I think there was a second shooter on the grassy knoll." We laughed forever.
*To any gals who are surprised at my very first short post.... it's Friday here, so I thought I'd give you all a break.*
*To any gals who are surprised at my very first short post.... it's Friday here, so I thought I'd give you all a break.*
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
Five More Swats!
Today, Storm keeps going around the house saying, "Five More Swats!" Okay, so at first I thought it was funny, and he said it like 3 times within the span of 10 minutes, which had both of us laughing so hard. True, I was being very impatient with him and he does need to notice when my behavior is poor, such as when I am blatantly showing my irritation, impatience, intolerance, ...... all the negative words a wife can express that start with the letter "i." We will see if he follows through on this though. I will keep you posted as I have just started this draft.
A short time later ......
Storm tells me at lunchtime that the swats are adding up. I'm sorry, what? He was apparently not joking earlier? Who are you and what have you done with my husband? So I test the waters a little bit. "Well, how about subtracting some for all the work I did outside today? (I was working on a cleanup project in the garage that he has been saying he's going to do for over a month now and I am tired of looking at the huge mess.) So he says, "We may have to because this number is getting pretty high." I told you I am having a bad day. I had an even worse one yesterday. So I still think he is kidding about the whole thing. Then he comes back into the kitchen and says, "I thought about it, and no. I'm not subtracting." Hmm. And then, "Because you do a lot of good things, so if I start subtracting, the number will be too low." Me, "Apparently, you're not paying attention to everything I say all day." And I really am not trying to be a snot when I said that. It's true. He gives me entirely too much credit and too much the benefit of the doubt. Overall, that is a wonderful quality for a husband to have about his wife. But, not when they're in a TTWD relationship and she is being impatient, irritated, and intolerant. We had several serious discussions yesterday about TTWD ......some very frustrating ones, if I am being honest. This talking and saying what I need is driving me nuts. And the more I talk, the more I feel like I am doing that "topping from the bottom" thing and I absolutely HATE that feeling. Storm has not told me that is what I am doing. He wants me to talk to him about what I am feeling and what I need. But, we're just not ending up on the same page right now. And so I do that thing where I want us to talk but I want HIM to talk. Me, "What do you hear me saying because I am tired of my own voice!!?" That kind of frustrating communication.
So for the first time, I can answer YES to a few things that have never happened here in our home. Yes, I was trying to talk him into less intense of a spanking before I even knew he was going to spank for sure. Yes, negotiation is new territory. And, yes, I really wasn't sure what to make of this sudden tally he was keeping in his head as we had never even discussed such a thing!
Several weeks ago, I was trying to tell him what he would be in trouble for if I was the HOH, which is why I ended up writing how terrible of an HOH I would actually make "here." And so every imaginary minor infraction that occurred around the house, I would grab my pencil that I keep nearby when I am typing because sometimes I take a break from that and actually write with a pencil and paper.. It depends on my mood and if I am sick of looking at the computer screen. It also depends on how numb my pinkie finger on my right hand is from the way I hold this laptop with my wrists. So, if he left a kitchen cabinet open, I'd run over to him and pretend to spank him with my pencil. And he laughed and was not offended..... so I kept doing things like that... and he would just keep laughing each time. And then he'd say, "This is what you want to get in trouble for, huh? This kind of stuff?" And the answer is no, not that ridiculous stuff, but some of the more serious things, YES! So that has been going on for weeks and apparently, today, when I pretended to spank him with my hand instead of my pencil, because he really was getting on my nerves with the SLOW way he was putting all the cardboard boxes that I had cut up and flattened... into the trunk....... he told me I could go in the house and I told him that no, I had to stay there and make sure he didn't take half an hour to do a five minute job. Thus, the whole "Five swats for spouting off!" thing started.
Later in the early evening...........
He just left the house to go run an errand, but he came over to kiss me goodbye and told me that we would be spending time in there ..... pointing to the bedroom....... when he gets home. Well, apparently he was serious after all and really what I have to say as I am sitting here typing out my thoughts is IT IS ABOUT TIME. And so let's see how this goes. I have a feeling he is going to take things up a notch or two and that my rear end will be paying the price for my mouth and attitude. I am not nervous; I'm curious. Okay, I am a little nervous, actually. And a little turned on, too. Hmmm. Will let you know how it goes.
Later that same evening.....
I am back to tell you that Storm did indeed take things up a notch. He warmed me up with his hand for a few minutes. And then told me to stand up and turn around and face him. Okay. "It's important that we respect each other. I need to respect you and you need to respect me. " Okay, I'm listening. He's looking me directly in the eye...... I am naked and he is fully clothed. I feel awkward, but I still pretty much manage to look him in the face. And then I am watching his expressions as he continues to talk to me because he has never said these words to me before. In theory, yes. In general, sort of. But, not directly. "And the number has actually gone up because I thought of something else that you did." Really? I did? I have no idea what he is going to say. "You insulted yourself when I showed you the way I thought you might save time flattening out these boxes -- you called yourself a name." Oh. He's right, I did. Probably another "i" word that is getting me in trouble recently -- Idiot. It's just that the way he showed me made so much more sense to me and would be quicker and easier than the way I was doing it for 2 hours today. So I called myself an idiot. "So I am going to start holding you more accountable for things." Okay. So things have just verbally gone way beyond up a notch. And then he hugs me to him again and I can physically feel in him that this is going to be different. It already is. And then, "Bend over again." I do. And he tells me the number, which I will not tell you other than to say it is divisible by 5. By number 6, I wasn't quite sure I would be able to make it to the final destination without doing that frightening "fire dance" I have read about on so many of you gals' blogs. And that would be new to me because I ALWAYS stay almost completely still, no matter what. And so, I started doing a little concentrated deep breathing except for when the spanks continued, I found myself holding my breath. And then I would start deep breathing all over again. My face was in the bed, so Storm could not see me grimacing. I have grimaced before, but not at swat number 6. I've also never counted in my head until the very end of spankings..... never for the whole thing.....
And afterwards we got intimate, and I was exhausted laying naked on my stomach on the bed. "I could fall asleep right now." It is still just barely daylight. Storm "Well, you should be tired because you worked hard today, you got your ass worked over today, and you just got your ----" fill in the rest however you imagine it went.
A short time later ......
Storm tells me at lunchtime that the swats are adding up. I'm sorry, what? He was apparently not joking earlier? Who are you and what have you done with my husband? So I test the waters a little bit. "Well, how about subtracting some for all the work I did outside today? (I was working on a cleanup project in the garage that he has been saying he's going to do for over a month now and I am tired of looking at the huge mess.) So he says, "We may have to because this number is getting pretty high." I told you I am having a bad day. I had an even worse one yesterday. So I still think he is kidding about the whole thing. Then he comes back into the kitchen and says, "I thought about it, and no. I'm not subtracting." Hmm. And then, "Because you do a lot of good things, so if I start subtracting, the number will be too low." Me, "Apparently, you're not paying attention to everything I say all day." And I really am not trying to be a snot when I said that. It's true. He gives me entirely too much credit and too much the benefit of the doubt. Overall, that is a wonderful quality for a husband to have about his wife. But, not when they're in a TTWD relationship and she is being impatient, irritated, and intolerant. We had several serious discussions yesterday about TTWD ......some very frustrating ones, if I am being honest. This talking and saying what I need is driving me nuts. And the more I talk, the more I feel like I am doing that "topping from the bottom" thing and I absolutely HATE that feeling. Storm has not told me that is what I am doing. He wants me to talk to him about what I am feeling and what I need. But, we're just not ending up on the same page right now. And so I do that thing where I want us to talk but I want HIM to talk. Me, "What do you hear me saying because I am tired of my own voice!!?" That kind of frustrating communication.
So for the first time, I can answer YES to a few things that have never happened here in our home. Yes, I was trying to talk him into less intense of a spanking before I even knew he was going to spank for sure. Yes, negotiation is new territory. And, yes, I really wasn't sure what to make of this sudden tally he was keeping in his head as we had never even discussed such a thing!
Several weeks ago, I was trying to tell him what he would be in trouble for if I was the HOH, which is why I ended up writing how terrible of an HOH I would actually make "here." And so every imaginary minor infraction that occurred around the house, I would grab my pencil that I keep nearby when I am typing because sometimes I take a break from that and actually write with a pencil and paper.. It depends on my mood and if I am sick of looking at the computer screen. It also depends on how numb my pinkie finger on my right hand is from the way I hold this laptop with my wrists. So, if he left a kitchen cabinet open, I'd run over to him and pretend to spank him with my pencil. And he laughed and was not offended..... so I kept doing things like that... and he would just keep laughing each time. And then he'd say, "This is what you want to get in trouble for, huh? This kind of stuff?" And the answer is no, not that ridiculous stuff, but some of the more serious things, YES! So that has been going on for weeks and apparently, today, when I pretended to spank him with my hand instead of my pencil, because he really was getting on my nerves with the SLOW way he was putting all the cardboard boxes that I had cut up and flattened... into the trunk....... he told me I could go in the house and I told him that no, I had to stay there and make sure he didn't take half an hour to do a five minute job. Thus, the whole "Five swats for spouting off!" thing started.
Later in the early evening...........
He just left the house to go run an errand, but he came over to kiss me goodbye and told me that we would be spending time in there ..... pointing to the bedroom....... when he gets home. Well, apparently he was serious after all and really what I have to say as I am sitting here typing out my thoughts is IT IS ABOUT TIME. And so let's see how this goes. I have a feeling he is going to take things up a notch or two and that my rear end will be paying the price for my mouth and attitude. I am not nervous; I'm curious. Okay, I am a little nervous, actually. And a little turned on, too. Hmmm. Will let you know how it goes.
Later that same evening.....
I am back to tell you that Storm did indeed take things up a notch. He warmed me up with his hand for a few minutes. And then told me to stand up and turn around and face him. Okay. "It's important that we respect each other. I need to respect you and you need to respect me. " Okay, I'm listening. He's looking me directly in the eye...... I am naked and he is fully clothed. I feel awkward, but I still pretty much manage to look him in the face. And then I am watching his expressions as he continues to talk to me because he has never said these words to me before. In theory, yes. In general, sort of. But, not directly. "And the number has actually gone up because I thought of something else that you did." Really? I did? I have no idea what he is going to say. "You insulted yourself when I showed you the way I thought you might save time flattening out these boxes -- you called yourself a name." Oh. He's right, I did. Probably another "i" word that is getting me in trouble recently -- Idiot. It's just that the way he showed me made so much more sense to me and would be quicker and easier than the way I was doing it for 2 hours today. So I called myself an idiot. "So I am going to start holding you more accountable for things." Okay. So things have just verbally gone way beyond up a notch. And then he hugs me to him again and I can physically feel in him that this is going to be different. It already is. And then, "Bend over again." I do. And he tells me the number, which I will not tell you other than to say it is divisible by 5. By number 6, I wasn't quite sure I would be able to make it to the final destination without doing that frightening "fire dance" I have read about on so many of you gals' blogs. And that would be new to me because I ALWAYS stay almost completely still, no matter what. And so, I started doing a little concentrated deep breathing except for when the spanks continued, I found myself holding my breath. And then I would start deep breathing all over again. My face was in the bed, so Storm could not see me grimacing. I have grimaced before, but not at swat number 6. I've also never counted in my head until the very end of spankings..... never for the whole thing.....
And afterwards we got intimate, and I was exhausted laying naked on my stomach on the bed. "I could fall asleep right now." It is still just barely daylight. Storm "Well, you should be tired because you worked hard today, you got your ass worked over today, and you just got your ----" fill in the rest however you imagine it went.
Saturday, June 9, 2018
Sensitivity and Tolerance - The Top and the Bottom
Ah, the senses during and after the spanking ...... the thwap! of the belt, the ping! of the paddle, or the sharp slap! of flesh against flesh when he uses his hand. And where are we? In our bedrooms, closets, or basements. Oh, don't forget the car. The feeling of the sting, the tingle, the burn, the ouch .... Perhaps we do not "enjoy" some of that..... as the actual discipline is not supposed to be pleasurable, (or is it?), but the benefits of the aftereffects certainly are. What about when we inhale the scent of the freshly laundered sheets as we bend over a bed or a jean clad knee, ........ the feel of the arch of your back...... the firmness of your man's grip on your hip ...... the timbre of his voice.... sometimes it is soft as he asks us questions .... or sometimes it is more stern if he is reminding us of how our behavior needs to change, but it is never rough or mean. And afterwards when all the kinkery is done, I go scope out my freshly turned bright pink derriere in the mirror. Then I notice Storm is looking, too, but I don't know why because he is the one that just made it this way so there should be no surprise to him, but his facial expression shows that of interest. And then he'll want to touch it and I tell him it's too sensitive right now, he'll just make it hotter. He doesn't listen and touches it anyway, because............ well, because he can. Wait, let me go ask him........ "Why do you like to feel my hot bottom after we're done with the spanking?"
Storm, "I have several reasons. One because we're already hugging right afterwards so it is natural for my hands to go there. Two, I want to feel how warm it is."
I grin and say, "You just finished the spanking, you already know how warm it is."
He ignores that and continues, "And third, I want to make sure the feeling sinks in." Oh, it sinks in all right. GEEZE. See? Told you it's because he can!
Some of us do the spanking for fun, stress relief, to be more submissive, to be kinky, to be disciplined, to change behavior and attitude, to soften our wills, and to be dominated among other things. I fit into most of those categories. There is definitely overlap for many of us. We all fall somewhere along the spectrum and sometimes we just tend to jump around trying this or trying that. But, I have to admit that when I read many of your blogs I often think, "Some of the ladies seem to have titanium bottoms! " And I could be wrong because the pain and tolerance of spanking is subjective. We can even talk number of swats and length of time, but still be talking about completely different experiences due to our more sensitive bottoms, less sensitive bottoms, let alone our frames of mind at the time. It can even change within one person.... sometimes we're more sensitive and it hurts more..... and sometimes the spanking can be more intense, but we just don't emotionally feel it. Or maybe we took too much ibuprofen recently, who knows?!!
Speaking of sensitive things, yesterday, I had just come in from yard work and I was sweating. My boobs were irritated by the bra I was wearing, I guess. I walk right into Storm's office and lift my shirt and bra......."Do these look irritated?" He gets up out of his chair, slides on his reading glasses, and bends down in a crouch like a baseball catcher to inspect, but not all the way down by my knees. My breasts are not quite in the bottom of the 9th inning with 2 outs, but they are in about the top of the 7th. We've been married a long time and I have given birth and nursed....... Storm, "I don't know, but they look happy to see me." Good grief, this man. Laughing.........
Many people use their sensitivity to their strength. Artists and singers are some of the most talented and creative people in the world. They are also often more tolerant of people's lifestyles that differ from their own. They love and accept and they feel, and that is part of what fuels their creativity. What is not well known is that they are often the most sensitive people and frequently suffer from anxiety and/or depression. They sometimes suffer with a hypersensitivity of too much self awareness .... from living their public and private lives under a world filled with people who all have their own microscopes in which to take such an unhealthy closer look.
Sensitivity doesn't have to be a weakness or a personality flaw, but it can be. Of course I am often working on not taking something the wrong way because if there is a wrong way to take it, I will find it, cradle it with both arms in a protective position like a running back carries a football, and follow that route from here to the hot inner core of the earth until Storm gets a hold of me and drags me back to its mantle TTWD style. I almost said caveman style, but he does not drag me by the pony tail, in case you're wondering. (But, does tugging on it count?)
Storm, "I have several reasons. One because we're already hugging right afterwards so it is natural for my hands to go there. Two, I want to feel how warm it is."
I grin and say, "You just finished the spanking, you already know how warm it is."
He ignores that and continues, "And third, I want to make sure the feeling sinks in." Oh, it sinks in all right. GEEZE. See? Told you it's because he can!
Some of us do the spanking for fun, stress relief, to be more submissive, to be kinky, to be disciplined, to change behavior and attitude, to soften our wills, and to be dominated among other things. I fit into most of those categories. There is definitely overlap for many of us. We all fall somewhere along the spectrum and sometimes we just tend to jump around trying this or trying that. But, I have to admit that when I read many of your blogs I often think, "Some of the ladies seem to have titanium bottoms! " And I could be wrong because the pain and tolerance of spanking is subjective. We can even talk number of swats and length of time, but still be talking about completely different experiences due to our more sensitive bottoms, less sensitive bottoms, let alone our frames of mind at the time. It can even change within one person.... sometimes we're more sensitive and it hurts more..... and sometimes the spanking can be more intense, but we just don't emotionally feel it. Or maybe we took too much ibuprofen recently, who knows?!!
Speaking of sensitive things, yesterday, I had just come in from yard work and I was sweating. My boobs were irritated by the bra I was wearing, I guess. I walk right into Storm's office and lift my shirt and bra......."Do these look irritated?" He gets up out of his chair, slides on his reading glasses, and bends down in a crouch like a baseball catcher to inspect, but not all the way down by my knees. My breasts are not quite in the bottom of the 9th inning with 2 outs, but they are in about the top of the 7th. We've been married a long time and I have given birth and nursed....... Storm, "I don't know, but they look happy to see me." Good grief, this man. Laughing.........
Many people use their sensitivity to their strength. Artists and singers are some of the most talented and creative people in the world. They are also often more tolerant of people's lifestyles that differ from their own. They love and accept and they feel, and that is part of what fuels their creativity. What is not well known is that they are often the most sensitive people and frequently suffer from anxiety and/or depression. They sometimes suffer with a hypersensitivity of too much self awareness .... from living their public and private lives under a world filled with people who all have their own microscopes in which to take such an unhealthy closer look.
Sensitivity doesn't have to be a weakness or a personality flaw, but it can be. Of course I am often working on not taking something the wrong way because if there is a wrong way to take it, I will find it, cradle it with both arms in a protective position like a running back carries a football, and follow that route from here to the hot inner core of the earth until Storm gets a hold of me and drags me back to its mantle TTWD style. I almost said caveman style, but he does not drag me by the pony tail, in case you're wondering. (But, does tugging on it count?)
We've all heard the term "topping from the bottom" and we submissives really try not to do this, but it happens. Storm and I were discussing this recently (who, us?) and I asked him how to take some of the advice that we ladies give each other here in blog land whether it is my advice to you, your advice to me, or advice I see you giving each other. And his hilarious answer will make you laugh, too. "Sometimes I think you gals are topping each other from the side." Oh gosh!!!
So the sensitivity tablet in my pill box...... Maybe I will cut it in half just for today.....there is a reason why the manufacturer put a line on that pill....so I can cut it easier. For today, I will skip the half of the sensitivity pill that makes me just want to crawl into a hole and protect myself from this big crazy world....... but I will take the other half...... the half that helps open my eyes to the suffering of humankind ...... the half that makes me see the value of someone different......... the half that makes me more tolerable toward my neighbors or a family member that sometimes drives me up a wall with their differing and strongly opinionated views . I will swallow it and then embrace whatever happens next.
Embrace. If you're screwing up daily like I am with all of this sensitivity and intolerance, embrace it, own it, see it, and work on beginning to change it. Let's be less sensitive about ourselves and more tolerable toward others. You know how we get good at something? Practice and moving out of our comfort zones even just a tiny bit. One small change can make a world of difference to someone. In my estimation, there are approximately four times more practices in sports than there are actual games. Practice doesn't always feel right, but it will once we keep doing the right thing over and over again until it becomes a positive habit. Chances are that someone, somewhere, somehow will appreciate our efforts.
So the sensitivity tablet in my pill box...... Maybe I will cut it in half just for today.....there is a reason why the manufacturer put a line on that pill....so I can cut it easier. For today, I will skip the half of the sensitivity pill that makes me just want to crawl into a hole and protect myself from this big crazy world....... but I will take the other half...... the half that helps open my eyes to the suffering of humankind ...... the half that makes me see the value of someone different......... the half that makes me more tolerable toward my neighbors or a family member that sometimes drives me up a wall with their differing and strongly opinionated views . I will swallow it and then embrace whatever happens next.
Embrace. If you're screwing up daily like I am with all of this sensitivity and intolerance, embrace it, own it, see it, and work on beginning to change it. Let's be less sensitive about ourselves and more tolerable toward others. You know how we get good at something? Practice and moving out of our comfort zones even just a tiny bit. One small change can make a world of difference to someone. In my estimation, there are approximately four times more practices in sports than there are actual games. Practice doesn't always feel right, but it will once we keep doing the right thing over and over again until it becomes a positive habit. Chances are that someone, somewhere, somehow will appreciate our efforts.
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
A Fun Twist on The Proverbs Wife
My parents were recently here for a visit and my father complimented and thanked me for the neatness and welcoming feeling that he got when his room and bed were all ready for him. Me, "Well, I'm no Proverbs 31 wife." Dad, "Yes, you are.' Me, "Well, not as much as I should be." Dad, "Well, you're a Proverbs 31 daughter." Aw, how sweet was that? Anyway, here are some various verses from The Good Book, describing the qualities of a good wife/woman and the silly side of what I think of myself when I occasionally run across them for some reason.
10 Who can find a virtuous and capable wife? (I can be found sitting here in front of my computer thanks to all of your interesting blogs and the writing for mine.)
11 Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life. (Her husband can trust her with his riches.)
12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. (Except for the time when I used uncooked long grain rice instead of instant rice in my broccoli, cheese, and rice casserole. Who knew it wasn't supposed to be crunchy? )
13 She finds wool and flax and busily spins it. (Nope, totally allergic to wool and almost all non human life, but I can certainly try to spin a spanking tale.)
14 She is like a merchant’s ship, bringing her food from afar. (She moves around with a yellow vehicular Wide Load sign on her rear end and she had to go all the way across town for those hot beef sandwiches with the peppers and special dipping sauce. It's not that they taste all that great, it's just that we need the au jus .... otherwise we'd choke on the dryness of the beef and Italian bread. )
15 She gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household and plan the day’s work for her servant girls. (I wouldn't have to get up and prepare anything for anybody if I had servant girls.)
16 She goes to inspect a field and buys it; with her earnings she plants a vineyard. (Totally misread this as "earrings" the first time through, I promise. She sold her earrings to buy the land because her husband said he'd build her a house.)
17 She is energetic and strong, a hard worker. (She started a blog and she's exhausted.)
18 She makes sure her dealings are profitable; her lamp burns late into the night. (I clip coupons; yeah, uh, that is my Nook Glowlight.)
19 Her hands are busy spinning thread, her fingers twisting fiber. (I'm no Rumpelstiltskin and at my age, I'm eating the fiber............... And what's with all this spinning? Didn't we do this in verse 13 already? Vertigo? No thanks, been there done that.)
21 She has no fear of winter for her household, for everyone has warm clothes. (I am a force to be reckoned with when I am behind the snow blower. Winter or not, spankings are still on the bare! )
22 She makes her own bedspreads. (But, I still fight with the fitted sheets every time I try to put them on the bed.)
She dresses in fine linen and purple gowns. (My carpet might not match my drapes (ask Storm?), but my new mint green long sleeved t-shirt matches my new pretty panties today! And, yes, I showed him!)
23 Her husband is well known at the city gates, where he sits with the other civic leaders. (He is kind of known a little in TTWD Land, otherwise he avoids most people at all costs, but yes he is my leader. )
24 She makes belted linen garments and sashes to sell to the merchants. (I'm sorry, what? I got sidetracked at "belted.")
26 When she speaks, her words are wise, and she gives instructions with kindness. (But she tells Blogger where it can shove it, daily.)
27 She carefully watches everything in her household and suffers nothing from laziness. (I watch as everything goes from clean to dirty in a heartbeat! And start to clean again and think, "Didn't I just do this like 3 hours ago?!!)
28 Her children stand and bless her. Her husband praises her: (The children need to stand up, give me a kiss, and get themselves in bed already. Then her husband can get on the side of her bed and look down at her and .......praise her for her efforts of a different kind.)
29“There are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!” (TTWD Spankees Rock!!! )
31 Reward her for all she has done. Let her deeds publicly declare her praise. (And then spank her
anyway.)
Which ones of these makes you think of something clever or funny about yourself...... ? Please feel free to tell on yourself in the comments below or just share your thoughts as usual, no pressure!
10 Who can find a virtuous and capable wife? (I can be found sitting here in front of my computer thanks to all of your interesting blogs and the writing for mine.)
11 Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life. (Her husband can trust her with his riches.)
12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. (Except for the time when I used uncooked long grain rice instead of instant rice in my broccoli, cheese, and rice casserole. Who knew it wasn't supposed to be crunchy? )
13 She finds wool and flax and busily spins it. (Nope, totally allergic to wool and almost all non human life, but I can certainly try to spin a spanking tale.)
14 She is like a merchant’s ship, bringing her food from afar. (She moves around with a yellow vehicular Wide Load sign on her rear end and she had to go all the way across town for those hot beef sandwiches with the peppers and special dipping sauce. It's not that they taste all that great, it's just that we need the au jus .... otherwise we'd choke on the dryness of the beef and Italian bread. )
15 She gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household and plan the day’s work for her servant girls. (I wouldn't have to get up and prepare anything for anybody if I had servant girls.)
16 She goes to inspect a field and buys it; with her earnings she plants a vineyard. (Totally misread this as "earrings" the first time through, I promise. She sold her earrings to buy the land because her husband said he'd build her a house.)
17 She is energetic and strong, a hard worker. (She started a blog and she's exhausted.)
18 She makes sure her dealings are profitable; her lamp burns late into the night. (I clip coupons; yeah, uh, that is my Nook Glowlight.)
19 Her hands are busy spinning thread, her fingers twisting fiber. (I'm no Rumpelstiltskin and at my age, I'm eating the fiber............... And what's with all this spinning? Didn't we do this in verse 13 already? Vertigo? No thanks, been there done that.)
21 She has no fear of winter for her household, for everyone has warm clothes. (I am a force to be reckoned with when I am behind the snow blower. Winter or not, spankings are still on the bare! )
22 She makes her own bedspreads. (But, I still fight with the fitted sheets every time I try to put them on the bed.)
She dresses in fine linen and purple gowns. (My carpet might not match my drapes (ask Storm?), but my new mint green long sleeved t-shirt matches my new pretty panties today! And, yes, I showed him!)
23 Her husband is well known at the city gates, where he sits with the other civic leaders. (He is kind of known a little in TTWD Land, otherwise he avoids most people at all costs, but yes he is my leader. )
24 She makes belted linen garments and sashes to sell to the merchants. (I'm sorry, what? I got sidetracked at "belted.")
26 When she speaks, her words are wise, and she gives instructions with kindness. (But she tells Blogger where it can shove it, daily.)
27 She carefully watches everything in her household and suffers nothing from laziness. (I watch as everything goes from clean to dirty in a heartbeat! And start to clean again and think, "Didn't I just do this like 3 hours ago?!!)
28 Her children stand and bless her. Her husband praises her: (The children need to stand up, give me a kiss, and get themselves in bed already. Then her husband can get on the side of her bed and look down at her and .......praise her for her efforts of a different kind.)
29“There are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!” (TTWD Spankees Rock!!! )
31 Reward her for all she has done. Let her deeds publicly declare her praise. (And then spank her
anyway.)
Which ones of these makes you think of something clever or funny about yourself...... ? Please feel free to tell on yourself in the comments below or just share your thoughts as usual, no pressure!
Sunday, June 3, 2018
A Message From Storm - Spanking the Secretary
So, yes, this post is by Storm, but I, Windy, am typing it for him. Yes, he knows how to type. He just doesn't want to do so. Nor did he want to sit down and write something for the blog, but he agreed to answer a question or two from me.......... and once those were asked....... he provided a lot of interesting material. So, this is Storm..... and I am just The Secretary. (Doesn't she get spanked in that movie? Why, yes, yes, she does!)
What is it like to be the spanker?
It's about intimacy -- you're naked and I'm not. There is a visually kinky sexy aspect of seeing you bent over naked. (He keeps saying naked).
It is about the act of you baring yourself to me, your flesh and your will, in submission of whatever I'm about to give you. (Gulp)
As I spank, I'm softening your emotions and your frustrations and your will. Even though you're willingly submitting, I'm still imposing my dominance on you. (I almost put my pencil and paper away right there and jumped him...... but I sacrificed that so I could share all this with you, so you're welcome.)
The touching with my hand over your body is reaffirming the sense that you're mine and nobody else's and so this is another act of physical intimacy that strengthens our bond and our relationship.
It seems like you're really paying close attention to what you're doing back there.
I'm trying to spread out the swats, start soft and have an escalation, trying to minimize marks. I'm trying to get a nice sized area evenly covered. (There is plenty of room). I'm paying attention to the angle of the impact to make sure its surface area of paddle is flat against your skin -- so I don't hit with the tip of the paddle or an edge.
I prefer to be touching you with another part of my body.... my leg, hip, or hand..... I like keeping in constant contact with your body so that you feel my presence more than just the paddle. This is newer to us, but once I did this I realized what I like about it. It feels more intimate like an otk spanking.
Can you talk about feelings you have about dominance?
What is it like to be the spanker?
It's about intimacy -- you're naked and I'm not. There is a visually kinky sexy aspect of seeing you bent over naked. (He keeps saying naked).
It is about the act of you baring yourself to me, your flesh and your will, in submission of whatever I'm about to give you. (Gulp)
As I spank, I'm softening your emotions and your frustrations and your will. Even though you're willingly submitting, I'm still imposing my dominance on you. (I almost put my pencil and paper away right there and jumped him...... but I sacrificed that so I could share all this with you, so you're welcome.)
The touching with my hand over your body is reaffirming the sense that you're mine and nobody else's and so this is another act of physical intimacy that strengthens our bond and our relationship.
It seems like you're really paying close attention to what you're doing back there.
I'm trying to spread out the swats, start soft and have an escalation, trying to minimize marks. I'm trying to get a nice sized area evenly covered. (There is plenty of room). I'm paying attention to the angle of the impact to make sure its surface area of paddle is flat against your skin -- so I don't hit with the tip of the paddle or an edge.
I prefer to be touching you with another part of my body.... my leg, hip, or hand..... I like keeping in constant contact with your body so that you feel my presence more than just the paddle. This is newer to us, but once I did this I realized what I like about it. It feels more intimate like an otk spanking.
Can you talk about feelings you have about dominance?
My first thought was that it feels good to have your body available to me to do what feels good to me, which seems a bit selfish. But as I think more about it, I am reminded that although I enjoy dominating you, you enjoy it as well. Likewise, although you enjoy submitting to me, I enjoy it as well. So I see my dominance and your submission as the parts we each contribute to our mutually beneficial relationship. When we focus on meeting each other's needs, the result is we get our own needs met by the person we love the most.
Thanks for talking with me. I learned some new things about your perspective and feelings. And I especially enjoyed just spending time with you on top of the covers, this time. ;)
Over (the covers), under, or bent over with sound effects, I always enjoy being with you Windy. ;)
Thanks for talking with me. I learned some new things about your perspective and feelings. And I especially enjoyed just spending time with you on top of the covers, this time. ;)
Over (the covers), under, or bent over with sound effects, I always enjoy being with you Windy. ;)
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