Being Bad

 I haven't been able to handle being bad for a while now, but I don't mean that I don't make mistakes or that I can't be my usual sassy self.  All the times where I thought I wanted Storm to notice that I was being naughty in some way and carry out a deserved spanking is just not so much a desire anymore for me.  I keep associating the spanking with not being good enough.  Ugh! I told him a few months ago that I'm at a time in my life when I don't want to feel bad about myself or know that anybody is upset with me over anything.  I try so hard to avoid that and make peace and it drives me insane when things go wrong.  We all know this  year has been a tough one for many people.  I just can't take any more badness in the world right now.  However, that doesn't take away our desire to work spanking in our lives.  I'm more comfortable now with making the spanking something other than me being in trouble and it works better because I don't have to get to that difficult to reach space in my head where I feel bad and deserve a spanking when I'm not sure I do.  

I want to be able to be myself.  I want to swear and I don't want Storm telling me that I can't or it's not ladylike, etc.  I don't have to stop swearing in order to be submissive or feminine or ....hang on for this one... intelligent.  He has never minded it as long as I don't swear AT him, but I don't do that.  I don't swear at anyone in real life except the unfortunate souls who find themselves on my television and they happen to be political idiots.  Do I hear $2,000?  Nope, only 600.  Hmph. 

I also like to smack Storm's rear end in a flirty or sassy way.  Why do I need to feel that that is wrong of me if he enjoys me flirting with him like that?  I have admired his butt since I was 16 years old.  And, NO, I do not mean any kind of serious or play spanking thing with him.  Neither of us wants that.  In this particular case, I let something that some other ttwd wife said to me make me feel like that wasn't submissive of me or dominant of Storm if he allowed it. I gotta resist the urge that while learning from others' relationships, I need to be careful not to make something my own that doesn't fit me and Storm.  

So where Storm and I are at in our relationship is that we're focused on team work and how we were in our sex life when this whole spanking thing started organically so many years ago.  For that reason, I think what we have found is probably the truest form of expressing ourselves sexually.  When I first starting blogging, I wrote about comparing where one falls on the kinky scale to ice cream flavors.   It ranged from plain vanilla ttwd to Rocky Road D/S.  We still find ourselves in the French Vanilla category, but, I fully realize this can and probably will change in the future, especially after having read Bonnie's latest post.  Lots of stuff to digest there that might make even Willie pause, but hopefully not get a headache like I do when the world wide web of submissive and dominance discussions and practices overwhelm me.  😁  And where is NJ to give me an analysis of this post and Bonnie's, too?  (Hello to NJ's Frank if you're reading this and tell your wife to get back to blog land.  Please? lol )  I do know where NJ is and how she is.  She's busy with chickens, growing muscular roosters, training a new puppy, and running Canada. And being at least a little bit bad   naughty like all of us D/S gals! 

Hanging in the Balance

 I love my country, but I am disgusted with some of the less flattering adjectives one could use to describe it in 2020, and accurately so.  I imagine a lot of Americans are feeling this in this very moment as we go into the wee hours of election night.  Those that have headed to bed probably had the help of a little alcohol while the rest are tossing and turning and punching the pillow with every flip flop. I am sure a ton of people no matter how they voted are suffering some election exhaustion.  The people I follow and who follow me on my personal Twitter are frightened and stunned and surprised that our country has apparently taken us back to the 1950's.  But, I am not shocked and the anger is not new to me.  I have been experiencing this on a micro level for the past 4 years. I knew it was coming.  No matter how this election ends within the next few hours and few days and no matter the winner, America has a lot of maturing to do.  I wouldn't mind right now if Storm had some Canadian heritage and a job that was in high demand there.  However, they wouldn't let us cross their border (oh, the irony!) given our Covid corroded American bodies.  And, no, I am not ultimately giving up on America, but I am keeping to myself.   

A couple of years ago as I was going through a big change in my life (not THE change), I was questioning parts of my faith and some of the practices of it and I wrote about some of that here then but not in detail.  I was and still continue to educate myself .... surprisingly sometimes fiction speaks to me in the form of truth and experience resulting in me allowing myself some room to grow. The Poisonwood Bible was bitter sweet as was The Great Alone, A Woman is No Man, The StoryTeller's Secret, and Educated.  The common themes in those books were religions that were part if not all cult, children caught hanging in the balance trying to figure things out as adult women, often abused, silenced, dismissed, etc.  But somehow goodness prevails.  A friend who was trying to understand my struggles at the time said to me, "Windy, we are good people. There are good people in the world from all different walk of life....etc..." in response to my fear of reaching out into my own sort of great unknown, great alone.  I didn't say so, but I didn't believe her then and I don't believe her today either.  Maybe I would feel a bit differently today had our nation come together as one with demanding truth over lies, science as our guide, God as our common love not a divisive one and formed a solidarity of voting compassionate, empathetic candidates as the leaders of our country.  But, we didn't do that by far.  

Storm and I have not been intimate for a long time because, hey, 2020 is wonderful for the entire world right now and who cares about sex?  I mean, we care, but I'm one of those gals who has to concentrate during sex.  I cannot be thinking about politics or religion or health issues from home all across the world and want to just jump in the sack and have an automatic great time.  Storm can.  Laughing.  Anyway, as he and I like to say when we have unexpected middle of the night sex, "The Cat Burglar" visited me.  The following morning, I said to Storm, "The Cat Burglar was a little upside down, backwards and confused for a bit there last night."  And he chuckled and said that's because he needs more practice.  I told him the cat burglar must have thought he was at a drive in campaign rally with all the horns beeping because he kept trying this beep-beep-beep-beep-beep rhythm on my clitoris that was completely weird and not at all helpful to the cause!  I almost opened my eyes and looked around for Joe Biden's white teeth in the dark. Instead, I flipped over on my back and turned on a low light so the Cat Burglar could rummage around in my drawers a little easier. Beep! Beep!

I am finishing this up the day after Election Day because I went to  bed around 2 am and left Steve Kornacki to work his midnight math magic with the interactive election map.  Poor guy.  I didn't post what I had written last night because I had no idea if I was making any sense.  Turns out, I did okay......... so here it is, a bit about how I feel right now as we're all left hanging in the balance in uncertain times and really not understanding many of our fellow citizens.  I can only imagine what the USA looks like to our allies across the world.  Ugh. 

To Tell the Truth -- Therapy

The message that we get from society, and unfortunately even from family and friends sometimes (and at the worst of times, it seems) is that therapy is just fine as long as its physical.  But, emotional?  Forget it, you're on your own, loser.  Don't talk about it with anyone, don't ever admit it, keep your mouth shut and stuff your feelings and emotions deep down inside so that you don't make anyone else uncomfortable. Ever.  Tell them all about your medical procedure regarding your heart and people will wish you well, but something that hurts your heart emotionally, shhhhh.  Just pretend everything is fine. 

I don't know who out there needs to hear this, but I call bull crap.  I'm proud of you for admitting you need some help and going to get it.  What a great thing to do for yourself and what an important thing to do for your marriage or family or whomever you're doing it with or for.  It's not usually an easy or comfortable process, but it's downright necessary and smart to go through it and come out safely on the other side.

On medication for depression, anxiety, whatever?  Doing yoga and meditation? Good for you!  You go girl, boy, they!  

Many of us are going through a rough time world wide right now because of Covid and its devastating physical, mental, and financial effects, and because George Floyd's life was senselessly and violently taken from him.  And what does one do about this as a loving and responsible citizen?  Good luck agreeing on whatever that is collectively.  Yeesh!  

Therapy might not look the same today as it did many months ago.  There are now virtual visits, phone calls, family helping family, friends helping friends from near and far, writing on your blog, reading other blogs and responding, emailing behind the blog, running, walking, going for a drive with your own taste of music blasting, creating your own individual form of art, working with your hands, cooking, etc.   Whatever healthy thing it is so many of us are on it.  Woot!  

People in my life are reaching out.  Some I haven't heard from in a really long time as friendships fade or go through phases, hurt feelings happen, and sometimes life just changes for us.  When the Covid stuff started sinking in with society worldwide in February and early March, one person surprised me by reaching out.  I found myself just appreciative that she was thinking of me and my family, asked after us, and wanted to convey her love and wishes for good health during this scary time.  I accepted that wholeheartedly and reached back to her with nothing but love, fond memories, and good wishes for her and her family.   In answering her initial and understandably tentative text, I responded to her need to reach out.  And, yes, she was asking after me, but what if she needed help from me in some way?  We both put everything that had been previously difficult between us aside and responded with love to one another.

This got me thinking and I thought that perhaps I should reach out to a few gals I had lost touch with, perhaps weren't the happiest with the way our friendships parted or whatever, and I swallowed my pride and offered my vulnerability.  I was successful in 3 cases and shot down out of the sky with an emotional scud missile in 1.  Woops!  Well, as Storm tells me, "Her response says much more about her and the kind of person she is (not nice) than it does about you."  Thank you, Honey!    

Recently, Storm and I binged watched 3 seasons of that series called The Ozarks.  My absolute favorite character was this young redneck lady named Ruth.  Her character is perpetually pissed off and has this twisted expression with her lips even more exaggerated than does the actress Holly Hunter.  Ruth has short blond curly hair that adds to her spitfire and pissed-off-edness.  She hardly has a line in the show that doesn't include some form of the word fuck.  Laughing!  At one point late in the show, Ruth gets the tar kicked out of her and is in the hospital.  When she finally awakens, her friends ask her how she is and she says in a tiny quiet southern accent, "It feels like somebody  took me apart and put me back together the wrong way."  I laughed out loud even as I murmured "awwwww!"  What a perfect way to describe what life sometimes does to us.

Later the meanest and most vengeful actor on that same show, Mrs. Snell, gives Ruth some surprisingly wise counsel, "Vulnerability is often seen as weakness when in actuality, it's the opposite.  It's strength."

It takes great strength for a person to get knocked down hundreds of times in life and to have the will to get back up.   A hundred?  Isn't that a bit much?  No, considering the fact that for every child of age, there are approximately 180 school days every year.  Ever had to deal with a bully?  And that's just childhood and only at school!

One thing I think people assume is that only when things are really really bad do we get counseling.  And I hope that is true because it's better than not getting it.  However, there are plenty of us our there who catch things in early and get into therapy to help us navigate some choppy weather before an actual tragedy hits.

Oh wow, look at what I discovered about Michelle Obama and Barack Obama.  She shares openly in her book Becoming (and in an interview with Oprah) that they sought marriage counseling.  I wonder if their friends gave up on them or said "Ah yeah, get back to me when all that is over because right now, you're just not good enough......"   Ya think?   Think any of her close friends said that to her in the White House?  And if they did, do you think she kept them as confidants?  We know her better.

I feel some people talk out of both sides of their mouths when they say there is no shame in getting mental or emotional help, but then treat you like there is once you admit it.   Unfortunately even doctors and therapists can make you feel less than.  Does yours look down on you when you come through the door?  Hopefully, not, but if so, it might be time to find a new one.  All I know is that when you come out of that door, virtual or otherwise, your loved ones should be looking up at you because it takes guts to face life instead of calling it quits.

The Word Fuck

I absolutely remember the first time I ever said the eff word in front of anyone else. It was to Storm. We had been married exactly 1 year, we were in our little grey 4 door compact car, and I was wearing crotch-less pantyhose for the very first time.  People, this was back when you had to find a specialty lingerie shop to buy  them.   We did not know about sex aids and all that jazz except through those little magazine flyers that suddenly started arriving in our mail box one day.  I had come close to saying the eff word to Storm before during some sort of sexual activity together, but I hadn't yet summoned up the courage.  This was  before I got the courage to hand him a ping pong paddle and hop back on top of him and....... well........ you can imagine what happened from there.  

Anyway, Storm and I have always been the type of couple that are of the One and Done Club.  A snack and a nap afterwards, too.  No second rounds.   Until the above night in question. 

  

We were getting hot and heavy in the car in our driveway and I whispered fuck me.  Well. That was a kinky surprise to him so things escalated quickly and ended quickly for him.  Laughing.  (laughing with him not AT him. :)  )   We went up to our little love shack after that and Storm had a kinky surprise for me in the form of a second boner for the night and yes, I made good use of that for sure! 

Swearing was not a thing most of our lives.  For Storm, it still isn't, but me?  Oh, sure I dabble now because going 40 some years without it was just too long.  Anyway, I don't think I have ever sworn AT anyone.  I mostly say things here at home in frustration about whatever, but I can absolutely control it and not slip around other people that I know do not like it.  I don't want to hear anybody swearing at someone else even on television, but when people say certain cuss-words in certain contexts especially when I don't expect it, it makes me laugh.  Such was the case about 20'ish years ago when the internet was brand new to us and we all had AOL with that obnoxious log on noise.....kkkkkkrrrrrrr........... and then that little cartoon guy saying to AOL, "It took me forever to log on....... what's my password......Guide?!  Guide?"    Anyone remember that?   Anyhow, a friend sent me a midi file back then called The Word Fuck.   Today, there is only a youtube with the audio, which is the most important part.  Whatever the images may or may not be included in it are NOT relevant.   Just click on this link, make sure there are no little ears around at all, close your eyes and listen.   Again, ignore the screen.  Just listen....... and laugh.  And don't take any of the advice given, whatsoever!  

Windy says click here

Cheer-leading

Oh brother, it's not even a word and requires a hyphen.  More reasons for me not to understand or like the word let alone the "activity."  It is NOT a sport.  Okay, let me clarify....... the ones  doing dangerous flips and tosses...... that is some talent and some guts and a little bit of craziness.  It is a very physical activity and  even athletic.  But, it is not a sport and never will be to me.  For me, sports require at least one ball.  It's a competition when teams go to events, yes.  But the only balls involved in cheer-leading are those possessed between the legs of  males who get credit for  being strong men, yes, but no, not athletes, in this case.  What about track?  Yes, that one gets me on my definition.  Runners are definitely some serious athletes as are swimmers.   So  let's throw in a clock or a stop watch........ there, now that is better.  Don't even get me started on curling.

Why are you talking about being a cheerleader, Windy?  Well, a few posts ago, I created a sentence that made me laugh when I wrote it.  So this post is inspired by my claiming not to be "some morning barking coffee chicken."  Laughing.  What I meant was that I am not happy and chipper and everything super duper all the time, especially  in the mornings!  (I am not a morning sex person and in fact, if Storm ever tried to get frisky when he wakes up at 6 am, I would probably sleep right through the activity because for some reason right around 6  to 8 am are primo sleeping hours for me.) 

There are different sides to me and I try to put my best foot forward here in blog land, but I don't always succeed.  And then I thought of Roz because she is like a blog land cheerleader with her faithfulness of showing up, cheering us on, often being the first one to greet us on our posts in the mornings, and I am thankful for that.  I had most of this post written for over a week, and then PK posted on her blog Thank You Roz!   I couldn't believe it.  She was thinking the same thing I was and we had not talked about it.   So funny!   And it says a lot about the quality of person that Roz is.  I don't think I've ever seen Roz comment anything negative or crabby.  She somehow finds something kind to say.  I laugh sometimes when I think of the things Roz has never written...... 1) Wow, this post sucked especially reading it first thing in the morning.  2)  What in the hell are you even talking about?  3) Stop complaining and go eat some chippies or something.  4) Your writing is atrocious.     Etc!   She is just a positive blog land person. ALWAYS!  Thanks, Roz!  So that kind of cheerleading, I can get behind..........

Now let's go back to the 80's.  Do we have to?  Yes.  Get some hairspray and spray the hair on your forehead straight up in the air.  Okay, that sets the mood and now you can see your computer screen more clearly.   But, I don't have bangs, Windy.   Well, it is technically the apocalypse in the entire world  right now, so I guarantee almost all of us look like some sort of wild haired cave woman, so go spray some hair on your body in some manner, even if it's your bush.  And if you have already been to get your haircut since some local restrictions have eased, I hope to God that you wore a mask.  Be safe. Don't be dumb. It takes zero effort to wear a mask.  (But, I love you even if you feel differently than I do about that.  Just don't breathe on me, please.)

Okay, so in the 70's and 80's.  Wait, you only said 80's.  Well, now, I'm saying 70's and if you've got the wild bush thing going on like I do right now, then you're all set.  If not, maybe put on some bell bottoms.  Better yet, take off your pants and be like Porky Pig. Windy, you know dog gone well, that nudity and free love thing is from the 60's .  You want us to go back that far? What I would like is for all of us to make it to the next dang paragraph!

Cheer-leading back in the day was not what it is today.  I grew up with the kind where a group of girls dressed up in uniforms with a skirt and no numbers on their chests.  Wait, I mean a skimpy uniform and the bottom half of that was shoved up their cracks.  Yes, these girls dressed up in their 1/2 uniforms to yell across the court or field at another group of people dressed up in 1/2 uniforms  while cheering for or against 2 teams with 2 different colors of uniforms fighting over a ball of some sort.  I just didn't get it.

There was a time when my girl was little and she wanted to be a cheerleader and I almost died.  But, she was still tiny and young enough to where it was cute......... way before the middle school and high school drama that often accompanies cheer squads.  Ugh.

If you're wondering whether or not I would classify fishing as a sport, my answer is no, I do not.  It's a challenge, it's exciting (to me)..........   but there is no ball ....... although technically, there is a tiny one that you put on your fishing line for a certain reason but I won't get into it as who cares and it still doesn't make it a sport.  It's just a hook and a worm up against a fish.  If the body of a fish is smaller than the palm of one's hand, you definitely throw it back.  But, before you do, a good fisherwoman tells this fish to go back in, hide better from bigger fish, do not take candy(worms) from strangers, and do a good job growing for a while, and I'll see you again in a few years.  Look at that encouragement.  Kind of like a cheerleader!  I have seen other fisherman do and say similar things.  My dad, for example, tells a tiny perch to go back in the water and send back his big brother.  He has also said to a small fish that have accidentallly run into the hook with their fin or their eyeball or whatever, "You dummy! You zigged when you should have zagged!"   And that always makes me laugh.

I don't know which of you were cheerleaders back in the day, and some of y'all might have dressed as cheerleaders for role play, but I love ya anyway!  And, no, sex is not a sport even though there are usually 2 balls involved!

Gone Fishin'

I am at one of my Happy Places....... fishing with my dad!

I love walking into my parents' house because it just smells clean and looks very pretty. My mom has excellent taste in decor and it looks different this time because she has been painting.   There are always naughty snacks around, yummy dinners, and fresh, clean sheets.   It's really good to see them as it has been a while.  We are social distancing in the house, yes, and nobody has been out running around like an idiot for the past 9  weeks, so we're safe here.

As we visit, none of us  guarantees that we know what day of the week it is, but we definitely know what time it is as there are a hundred and nine clocks here and even if I don't have my glasses on, I can just look up at these clocks with the diameter of almost 3 feet and figure it out just fine.   There are many bells and whistles going off with everyone's text alerts and phone ring tones chiming, squawking, buzzing, etc.  I can't figure out if I am in some sort of fairy land or hell.  Depends if I have a migraine or not.   We have to speak loudly to the Giant (my dad)  who lives here if we expect any kind of coherent answer.  There is no hen that lays golden eggs, but the mother hen makes a mean scrambled eggs and sausage for breakfast!  There are no magic beans to throw out the window that grow into a gargantuan stalk, but the chipmunks dig up only the yellow flowers every night so my mom has to plant them again!  There is also a raccoon that steals the hummingbird feeder if my dad forgets to bring it in overnight.  This place is hilarious!   Amazing birds visit every day.  Redheaded Woodpeckers, Downy Woodpeckers, Orioles, Cardinals, Blue Jays, and today a Scarlet Tanager! My father is a birder and he taught our daughter from the age of 2 to be one as well. She is a photographer and a birder and she is now a college student once again.  We are thrilled and so proud of her and how far she has come since battling a serious illness  that stole way too many years of her young life.  We celebrate victories big and small here in our home.  We share them with those closest to us who know the struggle is real and love us anyway.

During this visit, my mom does have to remind my dad of some things such as the technique of coughing into his elbow.  He doesn't like that she bosses him, so he teased and said she was mean.  I eyed the big old cheeseboard with a handle on it that my mom uses as the base of a centerpiece for the large dining table and it is obvious to me as it sounds to you that it looks like a giant paddle.  I picked it up.  It's quite thick and  heavy and I  swung it gently toward my mom's rear end  as my dad was looking on.  He replied, "It aint big enough for the job."   We all died laughing.

When the fish aren't biting, we nap, read, and visit.  My mom had to walk down to their sweet hippie neighbor's house to get some paperwork from him.  My dad said she wasn't fooling anyone and he knew she was going down there to smoke pot with their friend.  Laughing! 

Both of my parents were thrilled to hear that the trees and/or Rose of Sharon sticks that we planted in my yard last fall finally look like something other than snowman arms.  I texted my mom last week and said that my snowman arms finally have little  green leaves on them!  I sent a snowman emoji and a leaves emoji to her.  She replied with about 15 emojis representing some kind of celebration  at the good news and then she included this:   And  "insert middle finger emoji" to all the doubters and Christopher, too!  HAHAHAHA    So there is the update I promised you all last year on the tree planting and the stranger who almost talked my mom into taking him to the big city.  He tried a repeat performance a month or so ago when he showed up in our backyard again and I heard him yelling at his caregivers trying to corral him back in to their car. 

And now, guess where I am headed.......... 

Amazing Grace, it's Been 2 Years!

It feels like 20!   Ha!  I've done a lot of living in my 2 years of blogging.   Compared to many other years of my adult life, yes, I have lived and loved fiercely these past 2 years and I am not ashamed of having offered my vulnerability to others. I have loved hard and been loved in return, and I have also loved hard and lost hard.

Do I have any regrets so far?   Yes, I wish I had a few do-overs within the past two years and looking back on my life as a whole.  I think many people who claim they have no regrets are in denial. I marvel at some who live in their imaginary bubbles, totally unaware that the rest of us can clearly see right through their transparent coverings.  It's like a little child who when she first learns to play hide-and-go-seek believes that if she just covers her own eyes, no one can see her because she can't see herself.  Hopefully, most of us aren't rude enough, mean enough, or so lacking in manners that you do burst someone else's bubble.  However, I think it's healthy to self assess our own bubbles every now and then, do some deflating if not an outright popping of them, and then blow anew.

 For me, as I reflect on my own life, it's not that I would always do the exact opposite in these hypothetical do-overs, but I would definitely do a few things softer.  I wouldn't love less intensely because that is just a huge part of who I have been since I was a sensitive little girl, but I would choose wiser those that I let right next to my heart, let go easier the harsh opinions and lectures that weren't healthy for me, and make sure I keep all the good ones right here in my spirit. I am not better at love in many of its forms than anyone else (give yourself some credit, whispers my inner spirit), but I am often more willing to be intimate with others in whom I sometimes find that they hide their vulnerability, no matter how strong they claim to be, how accomplished they might be, how sure of themselves they appear, or how above meaningful connection they sometimes hold themselves.   I see you and I've always seen you and I'm not sorry for being able to do so.  I truly feel that someone strong enough yet gentle enough needs to come along and crack a few hardened shells.  Humans need to both give and receive love and acceptance even when we don't recognize or struggle with admitting that we do.  For those in my life who see right into my bubble, my successes and failures, easily reading my heart when it's soft, medium, or hard, and for giving me grace as I work on my bubble, I say bravo and thank you. You know who you are.  However, even if you just read here and rarely or never comment, you do know me at least a little through my self revelations and my wacky sense of humor. I welcome you here on my blog and you are welcome to get to know me and my fellow commenters here.  I want this to be a safe place for you if you're looking somewhere to land.  As a fisherwoman, I promise I know how to safely land a fish and I will treat you with the same respectful care.  But, you catch them on a sharp hook, Windy!  True, but they won't respond to a beckoning whistle!  Don't worry, I won't fillet you, fry you up in a pan, and eat you like a starving devout Catholic on a Friday during Lent.  Probably.  Unless you're a dick.  Not Storm's dick though 'cuz I like that one!

I believe some of life holds periods of time where a person or a group of persons need to catch up to where others are.  And we need to let them for flip's sake!  We need each other's grace and we need to offer that grace especially woman to woman -- everywhere---  in our families, with friends old and new, with our pain in the ass neighbors and co-workers, with our sisters and daughters whether small or grown, living at home or having flown the coop.  The older must teach the younger, the experienced climbers need to show others the ropes.  So what if it slows you down a bit to help somebody.  Reach up to grow yourself and reach back to pull somebody else forward.  Give each other this space and grace.

You show me someone who claims to have never experienced the pain of rejection, to have made no mistakes, and to have never needed any kind of help from anyone ever, and I'll show you a fibber and  evidence of stunted emotional growth.  There is no substitute for actual life experience, although education in its many forms is important.   I am a person who has been very open to change within myself and initiating change within the subcultures in which I participate, especially these past 2 years. I am not proficient enough to explain how difficult this has been, how much of a toll it has taken on me,  and how I somehow receive such things into my spirit extremely deep and personal.  Let no one assume that this personal change thing is always perceived as healthy..... in my experience, it has been quite the opposite.  Imagine educating yourself not based on some new flimsy idea or trend, but in historical truth, in clear facts, in science, about various faiths of others, differences in how one loves and who one loves and not only accepting them but affirming them (that's a huge distinction) and in the different ways that many good people live.  And then imagine trying to break into that kind of life while still keeping one foot in the old subculture whether it be "the church",  a group of friends or coworkers, family members, or a Venn diagram of all of those categories and more.  In each new place, you're facing a ton of people who don't know you or recognize you, who have judged the habits of those like me that have come before me, and they will continue to do so until I have proven over and over again that I am not a typical anything and I can walk their line if I choose to do so. And let me tell you that is an amazing feat because I was never told what or where the dog gone line was in the first place.

Stepping outside my own bubble and looking back in it, I have identified errors in my thinking and behavior and I am still making personal changes, but 99 percent of people within most subcultures don't like change not only within themselves, but within their groups, and any change whatsoever in any of its members.  It's mind boggling and some of it is gas lighting and all of it just feels like so many people are disappointed in me and that makes me feel disappointed in myself. I  find myself repeatedly stunned and whispering What in the actual fuck?   I am so hard on myself already, I agonize over relationships, friendships, and EVERYTHING, and I honestly do not need a heavy hand from anybody (other than Storm wielding whatever implement!).  I have allowed this to shut me down and close myself off from others at times , which is the exact opposite of what I set out to do and of who I am.  I'm not some happy, barky morning coffee chicken (what?!) filled to the brim with all good news and viewing everybody's cups as half full 100 percent of the time.  It is very challenging to give yourself grace and mercy when the people you care about don't offer it.  And, I deserve it, dammit.  So do you.  Unless you're a serial killer.  Hmm.  Or a serial hurter/bubble popper.  In either case, stop it!

Am I happy with what I have written on my blog?   For the most part, yes.  You gals (and some guys?) have been very receptive to my style of writing and sharing, no matter what the topic.  Thank you.  I'm no longer walking anyone else's ridiculous imaginary lines, I feel good about that, and I think it is reflected here in my writing.   I feel much truer to myself even though I think finding oneself is an ongoing lifetime process.

Most importantly, Storm and I are in  a good place in our everyday marriage and our dd marriage.  I would just call the latter a delicious secret between us that cannot always be right in the open for all to see.  It is for the protection of others and the sanctity of it between us as to why we must be the only two in the world who truly know what is lying just beneath the surface -- that electrifying secret.  Please stay tuned as I share as much of it as I possibly can with this special blog land audience who gets it.  I share  not always with total comfort, but I'm more into being real, admitting my missteps and righting them if I am given the grace to do so.  I will keep taking difficult chances in revealing my heart, and I will continue to share my sense of humor with ease.  Thank you, to my husband, Storm, for leading the way with grace and mercy, freely giving it here in our home.  For those of you who have stepped forward in my life and who currently support me, thank you for investing in me.  I've tried to make your time worth it.

Love,

                Windy

                                                                             

The Penis: Do you see what I see?

I'm not sure any woman could forget the first time she saw a penis in person, face to face, whatever you want to call it.  While I won't describe the details behind the situation, I will say that the first time I saw a man's cock, it startled me.  It sounds stupid, but it took me about 3 Mississippi's to realize what I was seeing.   When I was younger, of course, I had seen babies private parts when I had to change their diapers.  Nothing startling there.  So when I saw my first adult penis, I thought it would look the same, but just bigger.  Nuh-ugh!

Do you remember those tan colored pvc pipes with a cap on them that used to stick out of the ground on empty lots here and there?  They were mostly flesh/pink colored.  That is kind of what I imagined a penis would look like.  Like the smooth underside part of a man's forearm ...... with possibly a red helmet on it.  

Good God was I wrong.  What shocked me the most was the color....... it never occurred to me that the blood rushing to it is what made it hard and kind of red and purple and angry looking like it wanted to shout, "Look at me and let me in!"   I stared him straight in his one eye and thought, I'm not sure you're going to fit, Mister! 

Well, after decades of marriage, I obviously know the look of Storm's penis quite well.  But it doesn't always look the exact same.   I find myself thinking one of four things when I see it:

1.  Okay, he's going to need some encouragement, teasing, and touching to get him going because he's looking a bit droopy. 

2.  Ah, look who is interested....... or is he?

3.  Oh, now, that's something I could definitely work with! 

4.  Where the hell did that thing come from?  I look up at Storm like What have you been eating?  And then I have a little (big) snack of my own!

Speaking of the shapes and sizes of penises, we've been ordering misshaped produce delivery through this company called Imperfect Foods, which I promptly renamed Fucked Up Foods after the second delivery....... Here's why:

Mr. Potato Head 

And Mrs. Potato Head

Storm named this one Jimmy The Nut.

Storm asks, "Does that one remind you of me?"

A tiny apple that I cannot resist holding in a baseball grip! 

If you're wondering what's with all the carrot shavings, they end up like this after I put them in the air fryer.

But sometimes they end in the basement with this little girl. 

The tiny apple was so cute that we decided to give her a taste of her very first little apple!  Press play to see her nibble for 20 seconds!

He Shed, She Shed

Technically, we weren't in a shed, but there was some whippin' going on 'round these parts!  Around my parts, that is.  Wait, I just mean my butt....... I 'm not into titty slapping.   Not my kind of kinky ouch.

Storm told  me to be ready for a  conversation in the closet in  45 minutes.  I assumed he meant naked and there would be some spanking going on as well as some talking because a couple of weeks ago or so, he cleaned the closet floor of all the clutter.   The man has been preparing in many ways for a while now. 

Let me back up a bit:  I got my necklace back with no formal announcement, no contract (not that I want one, but Storm has been reading, so how would I know?), and with no official conversation.  He just brought the necklace to me a while back, much to my surprise and confusion, if I am being honest, and told me, "I want my wife back."  Well, then!  I knew better than to pump my fist in the air in some kind of victory.  That's not how I felt.  I wasn't feeling proud of the fact that I had indeed been holding myself back from him; in fact, it felt pretty awful.  But, desperate times and all  that.  I had previously told him that I can't possibly give him all of me if we don't have some kind of a power dynamic going on along with the whole spanking thing. It's too much a part of my sexuality, heck, OUR sexuality.  He truly wants me to submit to him and wants to dominate and lead, but those things can't come from just one spouse.  We all know that.  So he has immersed himself into finding out how he can do just that.  Although I was puzzled, I knew enough to know not to ask him a hundred questions about what the terms were.  I put the necklace back on.  If the man  wants to lead, I needed to shut up and follow him. 

We started domestic discipline right there in that closet over a decade ago when Storm and I could still move around without our bones creaking and things hurting and going numb like they do now.  We had already been engaging in spanking as sexual foreplay, but had just recently discovered our first dd blog.   We learned to take our time conversing as he took his time spanking my butt.  When we do it the way that satisfies us both the most, it takes a lot of time, but it is so worth it!  Sexual activity follows and we were in there about an hour.  That's a long time to shift pillows around every time an adjustment for physical comfort was needed...... a berber carpet is not comfortable on naked skin.  (And Blogger is not comfortable with the spelling of the word berber.  Perhaps it feels that it has gone out of style.  I don't care because it's just a closet.)  

Storm went back to old school style, even reading from that website's archives to get himself in touch again with why we started all of this in the first place.  Although it is probably the most intense dd information and method type blog that we have ever encountered, it has some principles that are at the heart of a man being very dominant and the wife quite submissive.

So our kinky, aging bodies are in the closet ............. and Storm cannot use the paddle because it's too loud and anyone in the whole house could hear it.  Storm turns the fan on high, locks the bedroom door....... and then chose an implement that he bought at Home Depot 2 years ago at a time when we were having to find something very quiet.   Well, it may be quiet, but it HURTS.  Because we haven't used this in such a long time, I know to expect some room for adjustment and I expect some of my own frustration to come with that because I hate tentative experimentation even though I know that is the safe way to do things and that is what Storm will do.  The frustration never came, but the pain sure did.  I wasn't quite sure what to think and I was trying to shut the heck up and let Storm work it out.  I've never had a gag of any kind and I don't want one, but I really wished I had a hand towel or something at that moment to muffle the cries that I wanted to let loose.

  Deep breaths.   Oh, gosh, please stop hitting the same exact spot!  How many times is he going to--- ouch!   I seriously begin to think about using my safe-word.  Then I realize we don't really have one.... do we?  What is it ?   I think it might be Red.  Think, think, think.  Safe, sane, consensual, yes those are the concepts but none are my safe-word!  Wait, the three C's......  Consent, oh gosh, I can't remember.  Important C words...... what's a C word?   I find myself almost shouting in a harsh whisper, "Coronavirus!"   Certainly, someone shouting that awful word any place on the planet right now, would be cause for immediate, serious attention to stop whatever the hell we are doing!   Thank God that Storm paused to check on me and then he made some adjustments.  Whew!

Later, as we're both sprawled out naked and recovering in the closet, I tell all of this to Storm and he laughed really hard at that one.  Water bottles, water breaks....... stretching breaks....... blankets, pillows....... it felt like we were camping.   We had the sticks and I had an ass on fire, all we needed were some marshmallows and we'd be all set!  At other times, it felt like a bad floor routine at a middle-aged gymnastics meet.  All the bending over, and flipping from front to back.  His knees were red afterwards and no, he was not the one being spanked.  You know what he was doing!  

Blah, Blah, Blog!

Recently, Storm has been stepping up with our power exchange relationship and I am thrilled to report that it is going as well as I could have ever hoped it would.  It has taken a crap ton of work by both of us.  I know it's frustrating when friends and bloggers just keep saying that communication is the key, but it really is, followed closely by intentional action and willingness to make it work.  The problem with saying that as bloggers is that it still leaves the new gals on their own.  To think that they're going to be brave enough to email us when they don't already have a dd/ttwd/d/s relationship going?  Most likely not, because they fear they won't be able to get into certain circles -- not that those visibly exist too much anymore.  But, readers aren't stupid.  They can tell you what bloggers are friends with other bloggers, who exaggerates, who seems to tell the truth, who thinks they are high and mighty, who is struggling, and which bloggers don't like or don't trust others, so we may as well  give them some credit if we want to change the intimidation factor of blog land.  And I do want to change how I present some things on my blog.

Anyway, they want to know, how do I ask my husband?  What do I do if he won't commit, how do I get him to agree to this if he is afraid of hurting me?   What if he clams up and doesn't want to talk about it?  And what do I do with that God awful feeling of rejection when he resists or fumbles or worst of all-- he says nothing?!  And readers, please keep in mind that as bloggers, we STILL have some of these same questions.

While there is no one answer to those questions, I think it's a disservice as a blogger not to offer some of the details that didn't work or did work, worked for a time, needed adjustments, etc.   I have often heard that those specifics are just for behind the blog.  My thought about that has always been the same although I only recently feel free enough to say what I truly think -- screw the confinement of behind the blog.  Not that there is anything wrong about developing friendships, but share your stuff with strangers and lurkers and women just like you and me who are trying to figure out how to pull that spanking relationship into their marriage when their husbands don't know what to do with the information presented to them by their wives.

I'm not looking to coach anyone, but I certainly don't know how one would go about that without revealing specifics.  When I first joined blog land, I hit a surprising wall of questions the likes that I had never seen before.  Honestly, I felt grilled and kind of invaded.  I was the new gal..... why were others asking me all kinds of questions?  I thought I was here to learn from them!  Laughing.   Eventually, I figured out that women just want to know what others' power dynamic relationships are like so they can compare it to their own, get some fresh ideas, help them identify what might work for them if it's working for someone else, etc.  And because we have many personalities here in blog land, we all go about things in our own way and there isn't anything wrong with that for the most part.  Some gals get more excited than others, some are more reserved, some are more aggressive and want to lead, others would rather watch and learn.  As long as respect prevails, most of these methods are harmless.   That is something I wish I would have realized two years ago.  It would have saved me a lot of heartache and I know this to be true for others as well.

I do feel that I am, in general, an open person.  Others might disagree or feel that the are way more open than I am and that is okay with me.  I do want to continue to share the developments of our power dyanmics here at When The Storm Whispers to the Wind.  There have been some interesting ones ....... and it's working.   Looking forward to sharing.  I hope you'll do the same here and throughout blog land.   Please stay tuned as I continue to blah, blah, blog!!

I'm not that Girl

When  my sister was here visiting a while back, I decided that I am allergic to her.  Laughing.  We are so opposite ........ she is what I have always called a "priss."  That's kind of insulting, but she is proud of it.   She rarely has a hair out of place, but if she does, don't you dare touch it EVER.  She is the make up queen, the hair princess, the career woman AND the Suzie Homemaker........ and she STINKS.  Well, she smells of so many feminine fancy soaps and shampoo and hairspray that I had to use my asthma inhaler extra times while she was here!  I am not that kind of girl!

My personality, my instincts, my sense of right and wrong -- all of that was firmly established by the time I was 17.  I do see myself as that same girl in many ways and I think that is a very healthy thing that Storm knew me then.  Of course he would have figured out who I was had we not met and married until I was 30 because much of my personality is the same......... but my athleticism and sense of competition in that area was mostly gone by then.........  but it is still who I am in my heart and mind.  Obviously, I do not see a perky 17 year old body when I look in the mirror and sometimes it still surprises me.  Yikes!  I don't look too long, but Storm still looks and for as long as he pleases, dog-garnet!  :)

I'm not saying nothing has changed about me....... my golf game, for instance, is much better now that it was in high school because Storm taught me to play.   HA!  We didn't golf together for about 14 years until we picked it back up again this past summer.  I fell in love with golf again and I fell in love with playing golf with Storm again.  The memories came flooding back of the hours upon hours we spent newly married and in an open field, making love and rolling down heather fields like Princess Buttercup and Wesley, I mean hitting golf balls back and forth at/to one another. (As youuuu wish.....)  That is not typically how a husband teaches his wife how to golf.  Maybe I am wrong, but my experience with wives that learn golf from their husbands:  1) Have to buy some clubs because she doesn't already own them.  2) Pays too much attention to buying a pretty golf bag.  3) The husband isn't all that great himself at golf, but even when he is, if the wife is not previously athletic, the chances are slim to none that she will ever be able to do more than enjoy the weather and the scenery on the golf course.   Not that that is a bad thing, but I wouldn't pay good money to look out for goose poop, lose my balls in the water, hit the ball 25 yards, dig a hole to China in the sand bunker, and want to wrap my club around a tree in frustration.  So when I say that my husband taught me to golf, I really do mean that we put in hour after hour, summer after summer practicing OFF the golf course before I started noticing a major change in my golf game.  I still mostly suck compared to women who are pro or even really good ones who play in high school, but I do above average for a 50 year old amateur, weekend golfer.   We really should live in a climate where we could golf year around or close to it. 

One may argue that the human brain is not done developing by age 17 anyway, so why do I like it so much that Storm knew me since I was 9?  Well, unless a person saw me play sports (not golf)  in my prime, it's not easy to explain the incredible natural athlete that I was. I only do so now because I am old and cannot do those things anymore and so I don't see it as bragging. It would have been bragging had I tried to tell everyone how good I was when I was still that good. When people would ask me back then, "I hear you're good at sports. How good are you?" My answer ALWAYS was, "You can come to the game and judge for yourself."

Everybody knew who I was by the time I hit my freshman year in high school. Summer softball players and fans in our towns and all other towns we competed in knew of my talent. The middle school coaches and fans in the stands and teammates knew from basketball and volleyball season. But, in high school is when the newspapers start reporting on games and players in every sport and you suddenly find yourself being talked about on the sports page in the headlines the morning after you hit a game winning shot in basketball on varsity as a five foot one inch freshman! We didn't even get the newspaper at our home at the time. People from church that Sunday morning had cut out copies of the article and brought them to me for memorabilia and to talk to me about the game. (A memory I will surely never forget and the staff in the future nursing home that I am in will never believe me when I tell them such stories and God help me, I WILL!!!!! Although Millennials and their children will be taking care of me and when I tell them there was no internet when I grew up, it will make their eyes spin in their heads.) Colleges begin to take notice and ....... blah, blah, blah, Windy, girls get scholarships all the time now. Yes, they do, but they didn't back in the early to mid 80's because they were still establishing the programs for girls and spent years enforcing Title 9.

I say all that to explain that there is part of me that will ALWAYS be an athlete and just because I am now a kinky spanked wife does not mean that I have to shut that off unless Storm and I decide together that it is necessary. (It's not.) I think it is wonderful and sweet when she is, but I am not the wife that greets her husband at home when he returns from golf.  Nor am I one that gets mad that he spends so much time (and money) without me at the golf course because I am the wife that golfs with him.   I am the wife who is her husband's golf buddy and that is the way HE likes it!  I am the one who knows  the private jokes between men on the golf course......... things such as, well, I’m not tellin'! Ask your husband/partner if he/she is a golfer.  Otherwise email me and I’ll tell ya!  I have a new email address and it's around here somewhere!

What kind of girl are you?

The Chain of Breakthroughs that Saved our TTWD

***Storm helped me by talking through some parts of all that happened.  His direct input is highlighted in orange. ***



There was a succession of breakthroughs the way I see it.  All of them needed to happen due to me being an emotional, verbal, and strong-willed woman, and with Storm respecting me as a grown ass woman, and with him not allowing himself to display emotion, particularly ones that he associated with anger or negativity.  "I'll try to be more of an asshole," he has said to me several times throughout our ttwd journey.  Laughing.

Storm shared with me sometime last year that he was concerned that when I am really upset with him, if he told me to go into the bedroom for a spanking that I would tell him NO.   So then what?  I don't have the solution to that yet. 

First of all, I wouldn't tell him no, but how did I prove this to him?  I've never refused a spanking.  Tried to talk him out of one? Yes.  LOL   But, refusing and saying it's not fair or blah blah blah........ nope.  However, Storm is rightfully concerned that I might not give in to him because, in my next life, I am going to study to become a lawyer so I can argue appropriately and in a constructive manner all day!  HA!

Storm's hesitation on this impasse did not ease up until Ella posted how she and Sam handle things ..... Sam simply puts his hand out, palm up, and says, "Come along, Ells."  And I know, that Miss Ella is quite spirited herself, but she submits to him then.  She puts her hand in his and off they go to the bedroom.

 I asked Storm to read that portion of Ella's blog.  That was a real light bulb moment for both of us.  Of course, I could refuse to put my hand in his, but I implored him to try it during one of our ttwd meltdown discussions.  Then the next time I was due a spanking, he did it.  He put his hand out, palm up, and said, "Come with me."   My heart fluttered and my lady boner peaked her pink/purple/black/whatever-ugly-color-menopause-makes-it head out of her velvety hood, and I placed my hand softly in his and followed him to the bedroom.  It was humbling. It was brave of Storm to trust me not to reject him, and it was HOT.   And it was also really sweet.  I will never forget that moment.

So building upon that exercise in trust I used that first breakthrough to remind Storm that I will respond to him as a submissive wife when he needs to call me out on my undesirable behavior.  That he did something very hard for him to do, I submitted, and did exactly as he wanted me to do.  I reminded him of that often and I think, in part, that it led to our most recent breakthroughs that have us practicing TTWD again.  *YAY!*

Always, but especially since Storm came into repossession of my submission necklace, he has felt the need to have a Master Plan before we start practicing TTWD again.  (I don't care if anybody thinks this whole necklace thing is trivial.  It's a ttwd symbol between us (and I guess you guys! lol) that allows us to feel submissive/dominant at times other than in the bedroom especially when we do not have privacy. I've caught him looking at it and then me over dinner, on dates several times and the expression on his face is unmistakable to me as to the strength of its emotional pull on us.  It makes me feel submissive and it takes my breathe away when he says, "I like seeing you wear that necklace."

How I saw things potentially playing out all these years kind of doesn't need a master plan.  I thought it was as simple as  when Storm and I would have a disagreement and I was displaying my distress over the situation, I can go on and on and be angry.  While I do want to have my say, at some point, I think enough should be enough.  Storm has never stopped me from sharing how I feel (because I'm a grown ass woman and I know my own mind) and I don't expect him to until I just go on and on.  At that point, I see him potentially saying, "We're going in the bedroom and you're going to get spanked as I talk us through the rest of this."   This is a huge hurdle for him.  He sees me as vulnerable in situations like that and he says he is trying to figure out what the problem is and solve it.  He isn't thinking about shutting me up.  I say ttwd is supposed to be used to solve these kinds of problems and that you don't wait until everything is fixed and calm and then spank.  He said he was waiting for me to be ready for a spanking emotionally...... in the moment was a real challenge because he said he doesn't trust that I am in the right mindset. I say that is the EXACT time to use the spanking as a tool to help me get calmed down and for him to talk us through it.  But, he says that  he is in problem solving mode, taking responsibility for his part of the issue, and not focused on my inappropriateness.  Huge difference in theory and outlook and so he continued to struggle with his Master Plan and we had no ttwd action.

I was able to give him some space because together, we recently learned from a trusted source that was helping us get through a rough time with a family member, that it was normal for Storm to be able to express his emotions with me, even to be angry.  He finally gave himself a bit of permission to do this and I have been seeing it.  He doesn't walk around like a jerk.  It's mostly subtle...... but he has learned more to express his displeasure with me.  And guess what?  I didn't melt or fall apart.  For a long time, I  have been trying to get a reaction out of him on anything and everything because I need to see that he cares (even though I mostly know he does care), that things do affect him, that it's healthy for him to express his needs and that I NEED him to.  Storm is a master of self-control, but as his wife, I need to see what moves him, good or bad, and he has begun to show that to me more on purpose or should I say with purpose. And I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me....... and us.  Major breakthrough due to some hard work by both of us.

Recently during a casual conversation, I offered a compromise in absence of a master plan.  I proposed, "Why don't we allow for you to have time to reflect?  I won't expect any spanking action in the heat of the moment and I want to give you the time you need to reflect and decide what to do.  Maybe that will take some of the pressure off.  Then, soon after, like the next day when we have alone time, if you have come to the conclusion that a spanking and a talking to is warranted, then you can just tell me then."  That way, he's not shutting me up, he's not worried if I am ready emotionally, and I won't be expecting to have him spank right in the heat of the moment .  This takes the pressure off of him to make immediate decisions and actions.  I need to give the man some space to freaking breathe!

So all of the above things were parts of discussions both big and small.  But what happened last week wasn't planned.  We were just sitting on the couch talking to one another when we both admitted that we missed the intimacy of ttwd.   Every time he would even say the word spanking, I felt that quickening type thing you feel when you're newly pregnant, except this feeling was not in my abdomen.  You know where it was!   Purr........  During this discussion, I did flat out say that I thought I was due a huge spanking for all the crap I gave him over the past several months.  Hint. Hint.  He didn't disagree AT ALL.

Storm explained that after things calmed down, run themselves out, whatever, he had the time and frame of mind to reflect on things that I said that I shouldn't have or acted in the way I did.  So while he is not focused on paying attention to my inappropriate comments and/or behavior during the heat of the moment, he can and does later reflect.  Again, I need to give the man some space to breathe and think. (and to make some mistakes!)

Within a day or two of that conversation, we got in a spat when we were in the bedroom standing near the door, and I flounced away from him.  Well, I got about 5 quick steps away and he said in a very firm voice that I have only heard form him a few times in my entire life, "Come back here, please!"  It wasn't a request.  Well, hello.  I was back standing in front of him in a hot minute minus 58 seconds!  I immediately went from annoyed to submissive, standing there looking up at him. This was a first for us. I was well aware that this could very well be another turning point.

We went to bed that night and while lying facing one another, I told him, "I came right to you.  I liked that.  You were kind but authoritative."  He said to me, which completely took me by surprise, "Good, I'm glad.  We'll talk about how you acted all day, tomorrow. With the paddle.  Right here.  You and me."  Hot.  Another first.  Dare I hope?  Yes, I did because I could see his face in the dark when he said it and he was serious.

The following day, as promised/threatened, he told me I had to meet him in the bedroom in half an hour.  I used the time to prepare.  Even when I'm in trouble, there is a deliciousness that crackles in the air.

He told me one specific thing that I was doing for the past couple of months that I was absolutely no longer to do, EVER, and he repeated it throughout the spanking.  The spanking itself was hard, and long, but with breaks, and more lecturing.  The atmosphere had been set the night before by him and he followed through with it the next day.  There was none of me asking him when he was going to spank me or if he was going to  or how............ I didn't say a word.  For me, what made this different for me was that I knew he was very serious and sincere in what he was saying.  I genuinely felt remorse for my part in all of our difficulties the past several months.  It hurt enough, in the right spots.  Also, I really truly knew that I deserved it. It was long enough for me to process it physically and mentally, emotionally and ultimately, sexually.   We made love afterwards and I was just completely caught up in him like I was when we were in our 20's!  I was on my back with my ass on fire rubbing against the sheets with him above me and my hands now on his nice ass, gripping him..............

It was perfect.  He was perfect.  And I had nothing to do  with any of it except getting myself in trouble in the first place.

Days later, as I sit here trying to put this post together in a halfway coherent manner, my ass hurts from the spanking that I received just this afternoon.   All his doing......... none of mine.  And as he stood on the side of the bed when it was all over playing Naked King of the Mountain, as I like to call it, with me standing on the floor, my face looking up to his, I pleasured him as he gave me a necklace of a whole different kind.  And that is just perfect for now.

Truth about our TTWD

Most likely if you're reading here, you have a spanking kink, and understand how the whole ttwd thing is supposed to work, in general.  To me, it has always seemed straight forward in thought and practice and Storm is a straight forward kind of guy, so easy peasy!   I imagine we all think things such as:  wife introduces hubby to some kind of spanking or dd website, she waits, he reads, they talk, wife's butt is introduced to the hand first and then later an implement..... experimenting.  They probably develop some guidelines, maybe or maybe not some rules that the husband enforces.  Wife listens.  Sexual tension increases....... and they lived spanked and happily ever after.   Right?  Laughing.

We have been an off and on again type of couple with the spanking due to various illnesses in the family over many years, but in the second half of 2019, Storm and I finally really and truly got the opportunity and privacy to try to make it work on a regular basis.

While I appreciate all that we tried to work on and all the spanking and kinky things that that lead to, something has almost always been missing for me.  We would get close to working it well, but then something always happened to make it not.  I kept feeling, thinking, and saying, how many times am I going to get upset with Storm when he wasn't doing what we had agreed on........ or I wasn't giving him enough room and space to think about things?  I was impatient many times.  I was hurt. I was angry. He was frustrated and he just shut down almost every time.  How many times were we going to argue about it?  It was getting to be way more than I could face anymore.  And he was feeling responsible for leaving me hanging.

I love Storm and we get along really well and enjoy spending lots of our time together ....... we're best friends.  But, honestly, TTWD was causing more hard feelings between us and although I would never truly want to give it up, I couldn't take it anymore.   I absolutely do not want to resent my beautiful husband.  He's too precious and too important to me.  He's my rock, my soul mate, I adore him.  And I wanted to start acting like it again and instead of bringing up his failures, I want to celebrate all that is  good and kind about him as a husband and father.   He is a selfless man.  I will never be able to provide for him all the things in life and in our relationship that he does for me.  He would disagree..... he loves what I bring to him, that I touch him, always want him to touch me when he wants to, cook nice dinners for him ....... and have wonderful conversations with totally comfortable silences in between.  And Netflix.  And Netflix and chill, and if you don't know what that means, I will tell you that you watch a movie and then you fuck intensely.  🍆

So within recent months, I gave my submission rock necklace that I love and that Storm loves when I wear it....... I gave it back to him.  I wanted to throw it across the room, but I didn't because I am past that.  I have been really hurt over the whole thing because, yes, I can absolutely do my part and be a better submissive wife, but it doesn't work if the husband isn't actively leading.  And I can hear some of you now saying what you've always said -- submit first, and see if that breeds dominance.  And my answer is the same as always.  NO.  I'm not submitting to something that doesn't exist in hopes that it will just appear because it leaves me serving and giving and bending my ways without his leadership and dominance and input ...... if I  can do that on my own, and I can, then what the heck do I need ttwd for? 

Storm felt it wasn't fair to me to keep looking to him with great expectations and him not being fully able to wrap his head around it and have a master game plan.  So, I told him when he had time to come to whatever decisions he needed to make about TTWD and leading, that he could choose to give the necklace back to me ...... or not.

After a time, I will tell you that he still has not returned it to me.   This wasn't a manipulative move on my part or throwing a tantrum.  I just can't do it anymore over and over again. There are too many serious things in life that are thrown our way and we just can't afford to be at odds over one more thing. 

Interestingly, I still wanted to be intimate with him without the spanking and that is HUGE.  Of course, I'm not going to turn the guy down for sex because I love him and we're bigger than failing at ttwd.   I think he felt like he had some space to think .........  and we were able to talk calmly with one another without any pressure, not every day, but a few times a week.  We worked as a team on other things that needed to be addressed in our family and we did that quite well.  We still are.   And I thought that this is okay.  We're still very good and we make one another happy in many other ways, so that's that.

However, you know, a true spanko never gives up hope, even if she doesn't bitch and moan about it anymore.   This past week, I honestly had the biggest ttwd surprise since we discovered domestic discipline 11 years ago.   And I will write about that here soon.

The Importance of Being Heard

I am real, raw, funny (sometimes!), and sincere, and when it comes to my own life, I do not put on airs, especially when everything isn't perfect.  I don't claim to know much because I think I learn more from others by being humble, but it puzzles me that if I don't go around giving my opinion all the time that that means sometimes people think that I don't have a strong one, and that I must certainly need theirs.   I do need the wisdom behind their life experiences, but don't others need just a little bit from my world, too?  Somehow, I  allow myself to falsely think that because I try really hard not to overpower people with my words, faith, politics, ideas and experiences that others will do the same with me.

“It takes patience to listen. It takes skill to pretend you’re listening.”― Harmon Okinyo

Do you think people know when they're being insensitive?  Are they overwhelmed, or do they just not care?  I have looked at loved ones or listened to them on the phone or via email and sometimes my jaw just drops at what was just said to me.  I want to say various things to different people through the years, "Don't you think I know that?  Do you even realize that I didn't ask you for advice so why do you feel so pressured to give it? Do you not recognize that what you just said might hurt me?  Do you not hear yourself? What I need is your love, not your judgment. Sometimes I just need you to listen and that's all."  But, I don't usually say those things because for the most part, I'm already vulnerable and in a state of emotional pain and I don't want to cause them to have negative emotions. Many times I just let people go ahead and think that they're right because I don't have the energy to gently provide for them a different, perhaps more sensitive, kind, and inclusive  point of view.  What is ironic is that many of us are often indeed sensitive souls, but only when it comes to ourselves and our immediate interests.  This is perplexing to me.  We can continue to fool ourselves into thinking that the people around us see  us as competent, sensitive, politically correct, moral, kind, intelligent, sweet, well mannered, etc. and we often are truly that, however, others often see the very flaws in us that we see in them.

I have been in situations quite recently when the people closest to me are facing some trying times.  The kind where one person really needs a lot of help and everybody is breaking down because we're tripping over each other with worry, possible solutions, and feeling responsible.  Those few moments in life when you think that whatever it is cannot possibly be happening, but you wake up the next day facing the same thing and you realize it is.  Lots of strength and restorative sleep needed here. (I have discovered that my back HATES the nice new air mattress!)  Many phone calls, several emails, doctors' visits, professional visits, research, studying, and reading have been filling our days and evenings.  I haven't had much time to communicate with friends and only my very immediate family is aware of all circumstances, but I managed to send an email or two with an update while trying to keep my sense of humor in tact at appropriate times.  Unfortunately, I was told by someone I care about very much that she doesn't want to hear from me because of this difficult time in my family's life.  I think my heart broke right then when I didn't think it could possibly hurt any more than it already was.  I wanted to just disappear.

Have you ever been slapped in the face?  I have when I was in high school.  I don't remember what was happening at the time, but an adult who was responsible for me was mad at me and I was about 16.  She was driving and I was in the passenger seat, explaining how I felt, when she just all of a sudden flung her arm out and the back of her hand hit me right in the mouth.  It took my breath away.  Something about being hit in the mouth/face is highly personal and instantly humiliating.  I believe it is one of the ways that breaks a person's spirit.  That's how I felt when I received that difficult message from a person that I cherish.  My God in heaven.  So I disappeared.

There are times in one's life when you know things have fundamentally shifted. I may not be able to exactly identify it by name, but because I physically felt it as well as emotionally, I know something inside me died in those moments and I also know that I will never get that back.  Being slapped in the mouth physically or metaphorically makes you feel that  you're supposed to bury your feelings, words, emotions, and difficulties instead of speaking your truth.   It robs us of being the very thing that God created us to be ....... human -- imperfect, but still worth being loved and heard.

Within our little family, of course, healing and forgiveness along with some very hard work by all of us is in the works because that's how we operate here in our home and Storm leads the way with that one for sure.  But wow, the ins and outs are foreign to us and these are some of the most challenging and important times of our lives. We're doing life better for a while now, we're holding onto one another, and we're standing a little taller each day after having walked through the fire and belly crawled under the smoke.  (And I'm still using the Oxford comma.) We are carrying all of our equipment (healthy life tools both new and old) and powering through this often cruel world with its harsh people and our own imperfections.  No matter what, we love one another in our home and in our hearts and in the middle of it all, we do a ton of laughing because laughter is a really good medicine. And we've got the real kind of medicine to help, too.  All-The-Tools, I tell you!

 We must all self reflect if we're going to have healthy relationships including the one we have with ourselves.  We have to be honest within ourselves about our own shortcomings. I don't believe any one person on the face of the planet has reached the point where he or she has nothing else to work on within his or her own heart and mind.  We've all failed ourselves and one another most likely many times throughout our lives.  Why do we often lack the willingness to simply apologize and put somebody else's needs ahead of our own sometimes?  Why is it so challenging to say, "I'm sorry. I didn't handle that well.  Please forgive me?"  And then move on from there.  We need to be better wives, husbands, friends, daughters mothers, fathers, neighbors, etc.  We can read all kinds of books and articles, and watch the news that while informative, tells us only what we want to hear and how right we think we are about whatever, but I've got news for you -- if that's the only kind of exposure we're getting - repeating what we've always done and always known,  then that's not how anyone grows.

If you're a praying person, please say a little prayer for my family and me.  If not, warm wishes and happy thoughts work, too.  If you need some of the same, feel free to email me (whether we talk, used to talk, but don't anymore, or if you don't know me at all .....as long as you're an adult chick, not a dude.)  My new email address is around here somewhere.  I need to start anew with some perspectives in my life.  I'm not perfect, neither are you, nobody needs to rescue anyone or have any answers to life's difficulties, or be there 24/7.  But we do need to feel that we're valued, that the difficult things that happen to us in life don't define us, and that we're being heard.  Thanks for listening.

The Dog Whisperer and Jesus

My canine friend is very strong.   We're just walking along with me holding his leash and then all of a sudden he about jerks my arm out of its socket  because he catches the scent of EVERYTHING, most likely another dog.  I don't talk a lot because mostly I'm thinking and one can't really carry on a conversation with an animal.  But, lately, I am saying to him, "I think I will talk to you because you're a really good listener and because humans (which I pronounced as 'hoomans') suck. "

He's very stubborn. Today, we were walking by this house where a man was loading his car with his luggage and the dog was just fascinated by the process.  The man kept looking at us and smiling, but it looked odd and felt creepy. Perhaps the dog thought he would take him on a trip with him if he approached him, but I held his collar so he  couldn't take off toward the guy.  I tried coaxing him and then pulling him to keep continuing on our walk.  The dog and all of his 85 pounds resisted by sitting down, something he rarely does especially on command. Pffft.  So much for his obedience training. Finally, the guy left in his car and we moved on, but I admonished the dog gently, "You know, you're not supposed to want to meet everyone.  Not everybody likes big dogs.  Many people are crabby.  Besides, you're supposed to be protecting me, not  dragging me toward danger."  And then I leaned down just a bit and whispered to him, "Don't you know a serial killer when you see one?"   GEEZE.    Perhaps I shouldn't have watched that Ted Bundy special on  20/20 last week......  or read my very first Stephen King novel recently, or watch Snapped, Killer Couples and Forensic Files before I fall asleep at night.   Ya think?   I can't  believe that dog tried to pull me toward a suspicious man with an open trunk and a large rolling suitcase!

He continued to walk, stop, pull, lower his head to the ground and tow me.  "You're not Balto, you know," I say as he drags me into a snowbank so he can sniff the yellow snow of all dogs that have gone before.  "You're having a lemonade snow cone, huh, buddy?"  Gross.

On the way back home, we pass the pond in our subdivision where I used to fish sometimes out of sheer boredom.  Even though it's just a retention pond, there are signs that say no swimming and fishing, but that doesn't stop anyone from the fishing part.  Some of the guys in the neighborhood caught several large mouth bass from a nearby lake and then put them in there for the kids to catch and release.   I did not know this until I caught several myself and they had tags in their fins for you to report online the date and serial number of when you caught it.   So the first time I got a huge fish, I was shocked.   There are little fish in there like blue gil, but no way would there ever be anything bigger unless someone put them there.

 I have permission to fish in our neighbor's yard, but THEIR next door neighbor hates it when anybody fishes there period.   Two years ago, he came out SCREAMING at me, swearing, because my dad stepped briefly in his yard.  He was a really big jerk.  He told me he didn't want people around his house because he likes to walk around in his underwear.  Good grief, I am fishing, idiot, not looking in your windows hoping to catch you in your tighty whities or playing Christian Grey with Ana and Leila trapped in there, although I don't care if the rotting corpse of Elena is in there at all!!  So he just kept screaming at me and my dad.   My dad looked at him strangely, "This really bothers you that much, huh?" as he cast out his line out again and the bobber  hit the water with a nice sounding plop!  Laughing.  And then my dad looks at him like he's nuts, "You're going to give yourself a heart attack getting all upset like that."  Another casual cast.  Meanwhile he's lecturing me about standing in his neighbor's yard with my backpack and 1 fishing pole like I'm destroying property or something when a guy several yards away takes his son out in the pond to test his new kayak.  Laughing.  If you're wondering what my response was to all his screaming and swearing, I just kept up a calm demeanor and repeated, "I don't care."   And because of what was going on in my life at the time, I just wanted a little time out by the water for some peace and quiet.  Well, he ruined that.  (The bible says that a soft answer turns away wrath.  Pffft, not if it is quietly clear to both the jerk and myself that when I am saying I don't care, I really mean I don't give a flying f***!   HA!)

So back to the dog and our walk.  I looked at the pond that finally froze over this late into winter and saw either a great blue heron or a great green heron, I don't know or care, but I pointed out toward the bird and said to the dog, "Look!  There's Jesus.  He's walking on the water."   I think even God himself may have chuckled at that one.

Not my yard, fence, or my dog.  Yes, those are my shoes.