Husbandly Touch

Online Underwear

2012-01-30T21:11:00.000-06:00

I like to shop online for interesting things like books,movies, and computers. But I especiallyenjoy shopping for underwear at Victoria’s Secret.

No, it’s not for me. Well it kinda is. Oh, you know what I mean.

I think online shopping is the greatest invention forMANkind because I won’t be caught in an actual store that specializes in thisstuff. Not even if I’m out of town.

I don’t want a young girl or an oldgrandmotherly type approaching me to ask if she can help me with anything.

It would just sound wrong if I said, “Uh, no thanks. I’m just... looking.”

Nor do I want any kind of protracted discussion of any ofthe products with the nice sales lady. I don’t want to hear about the differences in material. I don’twant to talk about cup size. I don’t want to discuss comparisons of thongs vs “cheekies.”

I don’t want to have to describe my wife’s dimensions, ortry to show them with hand gestures, or compare my wife’s figure to that of the salesassociate. No matter what he looks like (har har).

For me, the only way toshop is from the online catalog.

However, I must say about the models--and I know this isan old issue--that they are really skinny. Withouta doubt they are lovely with their pouty lips and cocked hips, but come on! My wife is considered tall and slim, but she is a grownwoman, not somebody’s child. Not stickfigure Barbie.

She has a full round, uh…well never mind. Suffice it to say when I take her in hand, it takes both hands.

So when I shop to buy panties, I have to keep in mind thatwhatever I get for her won’t look like it does in the picture. We’ve experimented enough to know what looks best on her—and that was fun.

When she has on her style of underwear, she’sbreathtaking.

I’d show you, but while I may be head of the house and she may be submissive, she’d kill me if I did. So you’ll just have to take my word forit.

PS—What’s with all the feathers when they do that runway show on TV every year?

Reassurance

2012-01-27T07:06:00.000-06:00

I had a little episode a couple of weeks ago that sent meto the doctor, who in turn sent me to a cardiologist, who appeared quite boredas he read my charts and ordered thousands of dollars of tests. In a couple ofweeks, they want to hook me up to a bunch of wires and put me on a treadmillafter they inject NUCLEAR material into my veins. And oh, how proud they are of theirservices judging by the price tag.

Yesterday, they did a sonogram of my heart. Thetechnician had me take off my shirt and lie on my side while she sat behind meand reached around to the front of my chest to probe my ribs with her littlewand. It was up close and personal—only my wife puts her arms around me likethat, usually in bed, and that’s the way I like it. The technician was nice butI didn’t like having her that close to me, and sometimes it smarted when shejammed that thing in between my ribs.

Then they hooked me up to a monitor which I’ll be wearingfor a month. Here I am sitting with my shirt off (I’m painfully aware that Idon’t look like Adonis) while three women about half my age chat about how bestto hook this gizmo to my body. It takes several tries and lots of conversationbefore they get it up and running.

It’s not reassuring to hear them speculate: “Let’s see,where does the white electrode go and where does the black one go?”

They told me (while my shirt was still off) that I coulddo anything I wanted with this monitor on.

“Can I leave?” I wanted to say.

I understand that trips to the doctor require someinvasion of personal space. And I don’t usually mind being treated by a woman.Frankly, I prefer them because, they’re smarter and probably had to work harderthan men to get through medical school. And the women who have given me physicals are more respectful andconsiderate than the male doctors I’ve had.

But this visit, though not so invasive as some physicalsI’ve had, was different.

Mostly, I think it was because I’m scared. I’m probablygoing to be fine, but I really am a bit scared.

Which brings me to the subject of being head of thehouse. When I’m scared, Lynda is afraid, too. It hasn’t helped that in additionto doctor visits, work kept me away from home, requiring me to go to the officeearly and stay out until nine or ten most evenings.

When Lynda is scared, she won’t admit it, even toherself. But she’ll talk about how tired she is and she’ll be even moreabsentminded and flustered than she usually is.

Last night I was able to be home at a reasonable time.We had dinner together, watched a show (yes, it was a Star Trek episode) and thenI told Lynda she was off for the rest of the evening. While the boys cleanedthe dishes, I took her to the bedroom and showed her my electrodes (that’s nota cute word for something sexy). I showed her how it worked and put on anamusing show about how I was wired for high voltage action.

Then I gave her a package from Victoria’s Secret that Ihad been saving, and had her do a modeling session for me.

At some point I said, “You know with all this medicalstuff going on, my male ego needs some reassurance.”

“Oh, you do, huh?” she said.

And then I had occasion to demonstrate that my vigor hasnot left me.

It made us both feel better.

Today, I have the morning off. I’m sure I’ll find areason to give her at least a play spanking. And then repeat last night’sperformance.

It’s all for her benefit, of course. She’s really the one who needs reassurance. I’mdoing it for her.

Really.

No kidding.

I wouldn’t lie.

Oh, alright. You people think you're so smart.

Re-setting Herself

2012-01-15T17:11:00.000-06:00

I’d like to thank Sara for the suggestion on noveltyunderwear from Café Press. I gave Lynda this pair of panties for her birthday:

I never know how Lynda will react but for this she burstout laughing. And then of course she hadto try them on and I wanted to test them out. They work great.

At one point during her birthday, Lynda told me, “I’mfifty-one and I feel great!”

You know, when she was twenty-one, and many times sincethen, that she didn’t feel so great. While I generally have functioned better overthe years, I can’t say I felt great either. And we weren’t happy with eachother.

But we decided to get hold of our lives a few yearsago. Simply put, I took control, and sheagreed to give it to me.

When I first started writing this blog, I described how Imicromanaged her day, scheduling every minute and spanking her when she didn’tadhere to it. And while I tried to befair, I was pretty strict (I call it consistent).

It’s three years later. I don’t make detailed schedule like that anymore, although we still talk about what needs to be done duringthe day. I tell her the one or two things I expect her to do, and then thereare the usual chores that must be done every day. She manages her own life much more, now.

These days our house is nice. The clutter is gone. We canwalk and sit down. There are always clean dishes and clean clothes. Ourfinances are in order and the bills get paid on time. We’re not late anymore to our appointments.And she does it on her own.

There are lapses. We had one last week, which I wroteabout.

“You’re actually doing very well,” I said as I whackedher bottom. “In fact, I’m pretty happywith you and with things around the house.” (whack whack whack).

“And when things don’t get done fast enough, I get to dothis, and that makes me happy.” (whap whap whap).

A light session. I let her go when her cheeks had twocheerful read spots.

Well okay, they made me cheerful.

Earlier this year, Lynda’s brother passed away. Once shehad gotten back home from all the proceedings, she got back to the ordinarycycle of each day. I looked often to seeif she was sad, but she wasn’t terribly. She seemed pretty peaceful, all thingsconsidered.

“I have reset myself to a new normal,” she said. “Which is to feel good.”

“Things happen,” she continued, “that disrupt my day, butI realized when that happens, I can go back to normal soon enough, which isto feel good. If I need to, I can do something that helps me feel that way.”

And she does. Shehas finally learned to nurture herself. She takes time to listen to the musicshe likes. She’ll relax and play a video game with the boys. And she does artwork.

She never gave herself these things before.

Before, it was always a fevered rush to catch up, andusually she created more chaos in the attempt. And she rarely finished a task. Then she’d cycle down andjust stay in bed. But now she has time to enjoy herself and take care of hertasks.

I have always been her leader. But lately, sometimes, itfeels like she jumped way ahead of me and is teaching me things.

She’s fifty-one and she feels great.

I think that's pretty great.

Seeing the Signs

2012-01-11T17:03:00.000-06:00

I guess it makes sense that at times Lynda knows before Ido that she’s getting a spanking.

But it really makes my head spin to realize she doesn’tknow that she knows.

You know?

Yesterday, she neglected one of her tasks. In the grandscheme of things, it wasn’t such a big deal, especially considering how wellshe has been doing in general. But it is one of those ironclad issues aroundhere that always earns a spanking.

She caught her slip pretty quickly. Chances are I mightnot have noticed it, but of course, I did, although I didn’t say anything atthe time. Even if I hadn’t noticed I would have seen indications from her that toldme she knew a spanking was coming.

She claims that when she knows she’s going to be spanked,she puts it completely out of her mind until I bring it up. But it just won’t stay buried.

It has taken me a long time to recognize the signs, butit was clear this morning.

She was mildly agitated, although she tried not to showit. She fluttered about the house, busy with small tasks, moving past me justfast enough that it was hard to get her attention. At times she startedconversations that got me off my train of thought.

Before ttwd, she was like this most of the time. And thatwas on her good days. But now it’s mostly when she’s trying not to think abouthow she’s probably going to get spanked.

I was thinking of dealing with this at lunch, but Ididn’t want her to go on this way all morning.

So we took care of it before I went to work.

And she was in a better mood. And she had a productive morning.

We just had our thirtieth anniversary and I’m stilllearning about her.

Feeling Silly

2012-01-04T14:43:00.000-06:00

When I give Lynda a deadline for an assignment, there isalways the opportunity for her to renegotiate the time table if something delays her. But she hasn’t really learned totake advantage of it.

I can’t count the times we’ve had this conversation whileshe’s over my knee:

“You know, (smack smack). If you had called me earlier(smack), perhaps we could have adjusted your schedule (smack), and you couldhave avoided this (smack, smack).

“But I did call you. Ow!”

“Catching me at the office just before your deadline is notwhat I mean (smack smack)”

Then she always says this to me: “It’s just that I feelsilly calling and asking you… ow.”

“How do you feel now?” I ask as I smack away.

And there’s no answer.

Well okay, there’s one answer she often offers: “I justfigure you’ll tell me you still expect me to get it done. Sowhy bother?”

That could well be the case. But I also know that things can get more complicated than we anticipated, and I’mprepared to make adjustments for her. Even if she is right about myinsisting that she ought to still be able to finish the task, wouldn’t it beworth a phone call to see if I’m flexible, especially after I’ve said, “call meif you hit a snag.”?

This feeling silly issue is interesting to me. Many readerswrote in the last entry that, like Lynda, they feel silly calling theirhusbands “sir.” As I wrote before, I can accept it, but I don’t understand. Ifcalling me “sir” makes her feel silly, how does being upended and paddled makeher feel?

Again, I don’t have to understand. Sometimes it is enough to accept. But it makes me scratch my head, and I admit it makes me smile in amusement—but don’t tell Lynda, it might make her feel silly.

New Year's Update

2012-01-02T20:00:00.002-06:00

Hi everyone, and happy New Year.

I hope all of you have had a wonderful season and I wish youa joyful new year.

I haven’t written in a couple of weeks. Life has been asbusy as yours with the holidays and work and such.

Plus, I think I’m sick. I’ve ignored it, figuring I’m just tired.But yesterday I nearly fainted in front of a bunch of people. I finally toldLynda how I was feeling today and agreed to go to the doctor tomorrow. I can follow orders, too.

Speaking of which, about her addressing me as “sir.” We droppedit for a simple reason. Turns out that she hates it.

It was experimental and not something I wanted to insist on.

The readers’ reactions were mixed on this one. Some thoughtit was a great idea. Others didn’t think it was so nifty. Some of you said it would be hard to keepfrom laughing if they had to say it. Interestinglyenough, the use of this title has a regional influence. Those of us in southernUnited States feel more comfortable calling one another “sir” and “ma’am” (also“sugar,” “darlin’,” and “hunny”).

There was one helpful emailer that wrote: “How does thisgrab you: ‘Go f--- yourself, sir.’” Which I interpreted as negativefeedback.

Lynda’s reaction was not so strong (or graphic), but wetalked about and agreed not to continue with it. As I said at the start, it was an experiment.It was helpful for an afternoon, but if it makes her feel bad, it’s not worthit.

It comes down to this. The power of my authority is notfound in my title. For that matter it doesn’t come from my spanking Lynda. Itcomes from my willingness to lead and my care for her wellbeing. A littlewisdom doesn’t hurt either. How the spankings are used is what this blog is mostly about.

And today, after I told Lynda how I’ve been feeling weak,clammy, and nearly fainted, I think I’ll say, “yes ma’am” about going to thedoctor.

Yes Sir No Sir

2011-12-14T16:36:00.001-06:00

Are you ready for the big revelation? The big new thingthat will raise our marriage to new heights? Get ready, here it is:

She calls me “sir.”

That’s it.

For these last two days, I’ve told her to address me inthis manner. I don’t intend for it to be demeaning. It’sjust an exercise to show respect and remind us of our respective roles.

Like I mentioned before, the boundaries between our roleshave been blurred a bit during these trying times. We’re not only stressed withthe outside issues; we’re also stressed with each other.

Now, I’ve used spankings to help remind us of who is incharge. But like I said, in and of themselves they hadn’t worked well enough--mostly theymade her mad. So I decided to add thisto the mix.

Think of it as a game just between us, I told her. Youdon’t have to do it in front of the children or in public. Only in private in the house or when we’re onthe phone with each other. Then Idemonstrated how it might be done.

If she answers a question, she will say “yes sir”, “no sir”, I don't know, sir.

To get my attention she will call me sir.

Instead of saying “Okay,” (with it’s many nuanced tonesaccompanied by faint eye rolls), she will say “yes sir.”

We can even argue but she will call me sir.

What do you want for lunch, sir?

The cat threw up, sir.

Your fly is open, sir.

It has worked pretty well so far. She has complied with aproper mixture of respect and whimsy. But it also helped in more difficultmoments. Instead of speaking defensively when I asked if a task was done, shesaid simply “no sir,” and then we worked out the difficulties. When she was agitated by something, she calledme sir, and explained it to me without blaming me.

The "sir" reminded me that I was in charge and shouldnot blame her or yell at her or offer any biting sarcasm. I kept my voice low, responded courteously, and addressed the problem, like I do atwork.

The days are still hard but we are feeling better towardeach other.

Oh, and there have been spankings. Three of them so far.

“This is not for punishment,” I explained. “It is astatement of my dominance.”

“Yes sir,” she said.

“It is a reminder to you to follow myleadership.”

“Yes sir.”

It may not have been a punishment, but I made it count.

"Ouch, sir." she said at one point.

This timethere was no anger or resentment on her part.

I don’t know if we’ll keep it up. But the respect is backand perhaps also a small positive charge sizzling in the atmosphere.

Tweaking Things a Bit

2011-12-13T11:23:00.000-06:00

TTWD has not been working as well for us lately. I’ve not wanted to spank Lynda as much andshe has definitely been less receptive than in the past. When I've insisted, our conflict with each other is intense (at least for us).

I finally have takensome time to think this through.

We’re at the age where there are plenty of major issuesto deal with. Nothing is easy. The next decade we’ll be helping our boys crossthe threshold from childhood to manhood. My wife has already lost her parentsand other family members. My parents’ health is precarious and I’ll soon befacing their loss. And there’s retirement to prepare for (somewhere WAY overthe rainbow). Oh, and there’s my workwhich is pretty demanding right now.

With all that and Christmas, too, there’s a lot to makeus anxious. And when we get anxious, we lose track of our dominant andsubmissive roles. She gets scared and emotional (and stubborn and combative). Iget scared and emotional (and angry and critical).

In short, when things get difficult, we become lessmature, like we were with each other before TTWD. But TTWD is supposed to help especially whenwe’re under pressure.

It occurred to me (once again) that being angry and criticalmakes me less of a leader, not more. I’m supposed to not only HAVE control inthe family; I’m supposed to BE in control of myself.

She hates being wrong, but she really hates my beingangry and resentful of her.

The spanking is what we do rather than punish each otherwith resentful, sarcastic, ridiculing words. If I spank her and I’m still so immature as to resent and ridicule her, then I’m not being the leader I’msupposed to be. The spanking without theleadership just won’t work.

I mean it REALLY doesn’t work.

So we talked it over this morning and I’ve decided to addsomething new to our arrangement.

I’ll tell you about it soon and let you know how itgoes.

Promise. ;).

Repeat as Needed

2011-12-11T16:19:00.001-06:00

I had a bad day yesterday. In the last two weeks I had lotsof hours at work and not enough time at home. You know how it is.

I was even too tired to give Lynda a spanking. J.

Perhaps it caught up with me yesterday.

Depression used to be chronic with both Lynda and me. It wasonce very bad with me and interminable with Lynda. It has been a long time nowsince I had any kind of episode, but it seemed to get the better of meyesterday.

I ended up going back to bed in the morning. I wanted to be left alone.

It used to be that if I was down, Lynda would go down veryquickly, too. First, she’d look at me helplessly. Then she’d go about herbusiness like I wasn’t there. And then she would get terribly anxious and eventuallyfall into bed, too. We’d get better ifand when I got up and made myself move.

It used to make me mad. Does everyone in this house gobonkers when I’m not doing well? Ithought.

Pretty much.

The occasional bad day aside, we’ve both stayed in goodshape over the last few years.

I believe our DD lifestyle had a lot to do with our bothbeing better. I decided to get better, so I did. I went to the doctor, I takemy medicine and I discipline my thinking to keep me sane. My disciplining Lyndawith a structured schedule and spankings has pulled her out of her long termdepression and she has mostly good days too.

But while yesterday was not so good, something differenthappened. Lynda came to me while I was in bed and asked how I was. She told meshe would do whatever I needed from her to help me. I told her I didn’t needanything.

But she persisted. Had I taken my medicine? She asked.

Well no, in fact I hadn’t.

I might as well say here that if she didn’t take her medsand it affected her like it did me, she’d be getting a spanking. I admit it’s adouble standard. It’s how we live.

When I got up after sleeping a couple of hours, I took mymeds and went into the living room. She was cleaning the kitchen and makingdinner and the boys were busy. Things were going smoothly. They were functioning without my directsupervision.

By late afternoon, I was better.

The lesson for me? Things are not bad like they used to be.We’re both better. Things won’t fall apart because of one bad day. I need toremember to get enough rest. Take my medicine. And continue spanking my wife.

What Was It Like?

2011-11-28T08:46:00.001-06:00

Got a question from a reader on the comment section.Instead of answering there, I thought I’d just write it in an entry. Here’s what the reader said, as well as myanswers. As always feel free to chime inwith your input.

Hi Mick,

I really like your blog. I have some questions andI hope it is okay to ask them here. I'm a little embarrassed to ask thesequestions, so if they are too intimate...I apologize in advance and won'texpect an answer. So, here goes (deep breath). I am a bit hesitant because Idon't want to be rude.

It’s hard toactually put these things into words because this personal stuff and we makeourselves vulnerable when we talk about them. And yet we can’t process and learn without the words, which is why weblog and comment on each other’s blogs. It’s not rude to ask a question, but I appreciate the respect.

I am curiousabout the before and after of the first time you ever spanked Lynda. Had youplanned out how it would go ahead of time, or did you just go with the flow?Were the mechanics awkward?

I remember thevery first serious smack, she went, “Whoa Ho HO!”

“I told youthis would be different,” I said. We haddone spanking before in a more playful manner before we used it for behaviormodification.

Yes, weplanned it ahead of time. In fact, we talked it over a bunch to make sure weunderstood each other. I especially wanted to make sure she consented.

Were you different with each other afterward? WasLynda distant before or after?

I don’tremember specifically. I think she took a little time to process things. I do know that she found herself greatlyrelieved that we had resolved a conflict and could now get past it.

I rememberafter a short time, asking if she was okay. She doesn’t really like me to acttentative afterward. She doesn’t want to be in the position of having toreassure me. She needs me to remain confident, even in the face of her anger. Shedoesn’t ever like to analyze her feelings, but I maintain that I need to knowhow she is.

She’s oftenquiet immediately afterward, and sometimes she’s still angry, which she’sallowed to feel. She just needs to be respectful.

How did you avoid making her feel like a child?

Well, I don’tthink she feels like a child at these times. And I remind her that we choosethis lifestyle as grownups. We couldn’tdo it if we weren’t both mature. I think it comes out that I don’t see her as achild when I spank her. I see her as an adult.

I don’t do alot of scolding. I don’t call her a naughty girl (unless I’m kidding) and Idon’t usually express a lot of anger. If I AM angry, I figure I’m expressing itby the spanking. I know some couples do find that scolding helps, but we choosenot to. We talk ahead of time to makesure she’s clear as to why she’s getting spanked because I find she’s oftenunclear. Sometimes I tell her what I expect of her and why she’s getting thisspanking and how I want for things to be different.

How did you figure out how hard to spank her?

It’s alearning process and a judgment call on my part. You learn as you go fromspanking to spanking. I put a couple of marks on her, and I don’t like that, soI modified it afterwards. I have spanked too hard but only realized it later—therehas to be a little acceptance on the part of Lynda that I don’t always get itright and we both have to learn as we progress.

On the otherhand, if I don’t do it hard enough, she comes up mad and nothing haschanged. However she has a real limit asto how hard she can take it, and it changes occasionally, so it’s a realchallenge at times.

I might addthat we don’t spank specifically for catharsis. If it happens, it happens, butit’s not an end of itself and it’s not pretty when it does. Again, some women want/need that but byexperience, I’ve learned it’s not helpful for Lynda.

When you announced that it was going to happen, howdid she respond?

She’s neverhappy, I can tell you that. She alwayshas an argument even if it’s pretty lame. Then she resigns herself to the factit’s about to happen and she goes with me to our place as if she’s walking tothe guillotine

How did you feel before, during and after?

Well, I’m alittle nervous as I think about she’ll react when I tell her she’s getting one,but I don’t let on. To be truthful, aswe get started, it puts me in a good mood because I like spanking her. I findthat any anger I had usually goes away very quickly when she makes herselfvulnerable by putting herself over my lap. As I spank, I am claiming again thatrole of HOH and I remember that I am responsible for her and I’m to take careof her. And I love her.

Afterwards, Iusually feel quite amorous Sometimes ourlives are so crowded, I can’t act on it immediately, but it usually stays withme until we have some time later.

When did you know that you were doing the rightthing?

I am a welleducated man which means I’m never sure about anything J.

Seriously, Iknew when I could look around the house and there was order. I knew when westopped playing our little resentment games with each other. I knew when Istarted feeling passion in my love for her again. And I knew when she had fewerdepressive episodes.

But I alsokeep evaluating to make sure it continues to be of help.

Sorry there are so many questions, I'll stop now.

No problem. Thanksfor asking.

A Spanking Reflection on Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T16:57:00.001-06:00

I hope all of you have had a wonderful day. In the U.S., we've celebrated Thanksgiving Day, but wherever you are in the world, I hope you have something that makes you feel grateful today.

It has been a wonderful day with good food, a nap, and no phone calls. I was just telling Lynda how nice it is to not be tired!

When I have a little rest, I become reflective and try to review things, and perhaps address a thought I had to leave by the wayside because things were just too busy at the time.

I'm thinking about a comment someone left me, accusing me of thinking about spanking every woman I see (or something like that).

After giving it serious contemplation, I've decided this is untrue and quite unfair. There are females in this world that I respect too much to objectify in this fashion. Take for instance my good friend, Griselda, for whom I am truly thankful. She is commanding but gentle, tender but tough, and wise beyond her years. The thought that she needs to be spanked would never ever occur to me, and I would never, ever, EVER entertain the notion of doing so against her will.

I don't usually do this, but I want to share her image with you. Just one glimpse of her fair countenance will show you why I would never suggest she be spanked.

Ready?

Wait for it....

Some things are just wrong!

Wishing you a beautiful day.

The Versatile Blogger Award

2011-11-21T06:14:00.001-06:00

I appreciate that Evan and Mikki both nominated me for a VersatileBlogger Award. Like other colleagues, I’mgoing to bend the rules a little.

When I began the blog I chose not to do a blogroll, althoughI’m thinking about changing that policy. There are so many good writersout there who have helped me. I appreciate this diversecommunity with their thoughts and support. Don’t know what I’d do withoutyou.

And I’m supposed to offer seven things about me that you maynot know. Here they are although I know a couple of them are repeats from olderblogs:

1. I love old standard typewriters. I have three ofthem and two of them still work well. I use the computer most of the time, butI love the tap tap tapping of a good old typewriter. It makes me feel like areal writer.

2. I like candles, oil lanterns, and fire places. Idon’t think that makes me a pyro—I just like how the warm glow of the flamehelps me to get calm.

3. I love to ride the motorcycle.

4. I hated school from the first day of first gradeto the moment I walked across the stage to get my college diploma. But when Iwent back for my graduate degree at age forty, I found that I loved it.

5. I used to love reading novels and now I don’t.No, I don’t know why. I still read nonfiction—biographies and subjects that areso nonrelated to each other that I can’t even give you a category.

6. I don’t hunt but if I use the same guns I stillhave from childhood, I can shoot the whiskers off a gnat—if I could see themthrough my bifocals.

7. I can’t swim and I don’t live near the ocean, soI rarely get to see them, but I love dolphins.

A Little Experiment

2011-11-15T05:27:00.001-06:00

A couple of entries ago, I talked about interrupting aspanking to talk over the circumstances a little more. And subsequently afterunderstanding the situation better, I saw fit to suspend the spanking.

I’ve also said before that Lynda has pretty much indicatedthat there can be too much talk before a spanking. Sometimes she wishes I’djust shut up and spank her.

I tried an experiment last week. The night before as we were going to sleep, Itold her she could expect a spanking the next day (which was my day off). Inthe morning after the kids had gone to school she told me that she felt a littlenauseated. This is one of her ways to unconsciously avoid something—Whether it's doing achore, or getting a spanking. But tomake sure, I waited a bit. Usually, hernervous stomach will settle down in a few minutes.

It didn’t. Oh, it didn’t get worse but I knew it wasn’tgoing away until the spanking was over with.

I put her over my lap and said, “Did you remember I told youthis was going to happen?”

“I put it out of my mind,” she said.

I’m sure she had, but her stomach couldn’t forget. Time toget on with it.

Afterward, her stomach was fine, although her bottom smarteda bit.

I did the opposite experiment with her for the nextspanking.

“Did you do the job I told you to do?”

“No.”

Without another word I took her by the arm and guided her toour bedroom. I didn’t ask for an explanation. I didn’t offer any furtherexplanation for the spanking. She knewwhy. In fact, I remained silent when I put her over my lap and began thespanking, which was pretty hard.

We had just gotten started when she said, “I did get it donethis morning. I don’t suppose that gets me any leniency.”

It didn’t, but I didn’t say anything. It was no excuse andshe knew it.

About halfway into it, I broke my silence as I continued tobust her bottom. “You know that when youfail to do something that I told you to do that I consider it deliberatedisobedience. Forgetting doesn’t make a difference. Neither do distractions.”

I said nothing else as I continued.

Finally, we were done.

It was a productive spanking that reset us. She was in a good mood for the rest of theday and so was I. In fact, our good mood with each other continued for severaldays.

There really is such a thing as too much talk.

Thank You!

2011-11-13T16:33:00.001-06:00

Thanks to all of you who were kind enough to comment on my blog during Love our Lurkers. It made my day! I started to reply back to all of you but I got overwhelmed and had to give it up, so please excuse this blanket reply.

I want so to especially thank you anonymous lurkers who dared to say something. It wasn't so hard, was it? Please stay in touch and feel free to write again. You can stay anonymous, of course. Some of you choose to email me and that's good too.

Thanks again and I hope each of you has a fantastic day!

Love Our Lurkers 6

2011-11-09T19:00:00.000-06:00

I started participating in Bonnie's LOL last year and had a great time. See Bonnie's blog at My Bottom Smarts. I invite you to make a comment on this blog and other spanking blogs that are participating.

Those of you who lurk, I hope you'll let me know you're out there by making a comment, even anonymously.

And to those of you who comment regularly, thanks so much for keeping me going. Please say hello to me today, too.

There'll Be a Spanking Today

2011-11-09T06:40:00.000-06:00

We haven’t had many punishment spankings lately, but therewill be one happening today.

We’re still unpacking from the move last summer.

I have to spend a lot of time at my work and Lynda is busytaking care of the boys, especially with the older one who will be graduatingin the spring and headed off to college next year.

So I allowed Lynda to put off unpacking everything elseafter we had the essentials put in place. But she hasn’t touched all the boxesin the room that is supposed to be her art studio. Consequently she isn’t doing much art and we’reall a little hamstrung because we still have things in boxes that we nowneed.

Two weeks ago, I told her it was time to get control of therest of our lives. I intend for this whole house to be in working order, withall possessions put in place, and the room set up for her to do her art.

When she looks at the room full of boxes, it deflatesher. I can see she doesn’t want to dothe job at all. I told her, “I know you’rebusy. You don’t have to tackle it all at once. Just unload one box every day. I know even that’s not always easy becauseit requires you to rearrange things in the house to make room, but you can doit. One box everyday and we’ll startmaking progress.”

We really will.

But she felt extra busy yesterday and started worrying aboutthe next day’s activities, too. Her anxiety slowed her down and she didn’t gether one box unpacked yesterday—it was something she didn’t want to do anyway.It isn’t that she didn’t have time. It’s that she didn’t manage her timewell.

Lynda gets spanked when she doesn’t do what I tell her.

She doesn’t throw a lot of tantrums, althoughshe has on occasion. I don’t get a lot of attitude from her, although it hashappened. There’s rarely any open defiance. She disobeys by dragging her feet, forgetting what she’s doing, tellingme that she’s tired and that the job is too hard.

That’s what happened yesterday. And that’s why she’s gettingspanked today.

Love Our Lurkers

2011-11-08T13:47:00.000-06:00

LOL!!

LOL stands for Love Our Lurkers this Thursday, Nov 10.

This is a tradition started by Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts. It’s our designated day to especially invite those of you who have been reading this blog but have not chosen to comment before now.

I love writing for an audience. The comments are funny, clever, helpful, supportive, and sometimes challenging. Thank you so much. You’ve kept me going.

If you’ve been lurking, would you consider leaving me a comment to let me know you’re there? You don’t have to say much or anything clever. Just a hello would be great. If you want to remain anonymous, you have that option.

Hope to hear from you then.

Captain My Captain

2011-11-02T22:01:00.000-05:00

For all us trekkies, we discuss a lot of thingsabout the show, including who was the best character. And I’ve had manyconversations as to who was the best leader.

I could never buy Kirk as a ship’s captain. He was tooemotionally fragile, always throwing fits and falling in love with that week’sguest star. This guy couldn’t manage a lemonade stand.

I preferred Captain Picard. Cool under fire, intellectuallycurious, deliberate in action yet capable of thinking fast. And he alwayswon.

But the one I most identify with is Benjamin Sisko, thecommander of Deep Space 9. He had a temper but became old enough to keep it incheck, most of the time. He had a cool deadly voice when facing danger. Thatsame voice became much warmer when he spoke to his young son—I like how hecupped his hand behind his son’s neck and kissed the top of his head. And I appreciate how he loved his wife andgrieved for her after she died. UnlikeKirk, he didn’t fall for every woman who came on the show. In time he came tolove one woman and committed himself to her.

I know, I know, it's just a show. There are thosewho just don’t get it about Star Trek—please accept my nonjudgmental compassionfor your limitations.

Just kidding. Ha ha…. (throat clearing).

Regarding strength of character, I’ve known some women tomistake a man’s temper tantrums as strength.

When I was growing up, the family lived in fear of myfather’s rages. I didn’t realize until much later that my mom sort enjoyed theold man’s fireworks even while she feared him.

When I look at those years when he was a much younger manthan I am now, I see his rage for the childish tantrums they really were. I’vecome to terms with that part of my past. I can see that my father as an older man is also a better man, althoughhe’s never owned up to his jealous, bullying ways.

Captain Kirk reminds me of my father throwing atantrum.

We practice spanking and DD in our marriage, but I don’t useit as a means of expressing rage. I use it as a means of leadership. I use itto help Lynda become all she can be. Our home has become much more stable andcalm since we began.

I’m not always as cool as Captain Picard, but I’m usuallycontrolled like Commander Sisco.

Okay… I realize that I left out Captain Janeway. I thoughtshe was cool too. Anybody want to guess what she’s waiting for in thispicture?

Where No Man Has Gone Before

2011-10-29T15:26:00.000-05:00

I confess…. I enjoy the Star Trek series. All of them. Theoriginal series, the Next Generation, DS9, Voyager, and all the movies.

Lately we’ve been watching Voyager with Captain KatherineJaneway and her crew, the latest of which is Seven of Nine, a human who wastaken captive by the Borg when she was a child, but now is assimilating back intoher human culture. (If you don’t watch the show, never mind, I can’t explain it.)

Seven of Nine is beautiful, brilliant, and short on tact.She values efficiency over grace; functionality over beauty, which is ironicsince she’s a babe. But we can all tellthat she has many feelings smoldering just under that cool exterior.

I suppose many would see her as more of a dominatrix with her curt language and good looks. But I always figured she needed the occasionalspanking for her bad manners. Perhaps it would have helped her to let some of thosefeelings out.

I said as much to my wife who suggested I thought about suchthings because of her tight uniform.

Okay, that's hard to deny.

Actually, Seven of Nine reminds me a bit of my wife: tall,with a figure that stops traffic. And like the fictional character, Lynda will betray nothing on her face of the turbulent emotions she often has. It took me a lot of years to understand justhow much feeling was going on in that woman.

While spanking does not provide an immediate catharsis for heremotions, as it does for many women, this way of life has revealed many thingsabout her. In general, she shows more ofher emotions and she talks about them more clearly. TTWD has provided a way for us to open up andknow each other more.

However, I can just imagine what Lynda will say the nexttime I put her over my knee.

“Have you been watching Star Trek again?”

Helpful Hint

2011-10-27T07:39:00.001-05:00

About yesterday's entry, I was attempting to be funny in the obscure way I wrote about our discussion. I was trying to sound a little like the Henry Blake character from M*A*S*H.

The silliness comes out a little better when you read it out loud, like I did to Lynda last night.

Have a good day everyone.

Can You Talk Your Way Out of a Spanking?

2011-10-26T13:39:00.001-05:00

AsData of Star Trek says in every episode, “theoretically, it is possible.”

Sure it can happen. Butnot often.

There are plenty ofarguments that don’t work. Make that neverwork:

I didn’t have time.

Time management is part of the job I gave you.

Thisrule wasn’t fair.

You should have discussed it with mebefore.

OR: We’ve discussed this before and I toldyou it would be a rule anyway.
OR: You’re right. It was too easy.

Ican’t do it.

Yes, you can.

Idon’t want to be spanked.

I didn’t expect you did.

You’redoing this because you like spanking me.

It does have its benefits.

Idon’t feel well.

Do you have a fever?

No.

Bend over.

Thisisn’t going to do any good.

Then I imagine we’llbe doing it again.

Haven’tyou ever made a mistake before?

Enough! Stop arguing or it will be worse.

But this time wasdifferent. We were both frustrated with each other over nebulous issues. Wewere to the point where I had Lynda across my lap and I was ready to commence.

“I still don’tunderstand why I’m here.” she said with angry tears.

So I explained. Get ready for this:

Isaid it is because of what she said in reply to what I had said. She said thatshe had said what she said because of what she understood I had said.

I rubbed the place whereshe sits while we further defined ourselves. I said that I expected herto respect my expectations in respect to our conversations about respect.

“That’s not what yousaid,” she said. “You said…” and she quoted back what I had said.

She had a point. We werestill frustrated with each other, but neither of us had meant to bedisrespectful. Hard as it is to believe,we just hadn’t communicated well.

So I let her up. Butwith a warning:

There are going to be timeswhen you’ll get spanked and you may not believe it was for a good reason. Infact, there will be times when I spank you and I turn out to be wrong, and I’lljust have to say I’m sorry and we’ll move on. Regardless, spanking is a way oflife for us. It is the way we work things out around here. In fact we had only started to communicate with each other when she was in theposition.

She said she understoodwhat I said.

And I let her up.

Could someone explain to mewhat I just said?

Spanking Made Us Grow Up

2011-10-23T12:25:00.000-05:00

Spanking Lynda made us both grow up.

I didn’t want to be an HOH in my younger days. I didn’t wantto tell Lynda how to do her work. I didn’t want to teach her a work ethic. Ididn’t want to insist that she obey me or give me the respect I was due.

I expected her to do it on her own without my insistence. Ididn’t want to force her to take part in our marriage. I wanted her to be willing enough todo it on her own. If she didn’t do it onher own, that meant she didn’t really love me.

I resented this for a lot of years.

I stopped being angry when I realized she was doing the bestshe could.

It took me a long time to realize she really did need me to takecharge. It wasn’t that she didn’t loveme; it was that she couldn’t be who she wanted to be without my guidance.

I don’t know if she was conscious of it or not, but she waswaiting for me to step up and insist on her respect, on her learning how to doher work, and on her trying hard to be who she was meant to be.

I had to grow up. WhenI did, I not only stopped being angry, but I found hope in our relationship.And now quite often I also have joy.

Lynda told me the other day how pleased she was that she wasfinding her ability in artwork again. She said, “I never would have reachedthis point if I hadn’t pushed through and kept at it.”

I was rather smug when I said, “You’re welcome.” It evenmade her a little mad.

I grabbed her and put her over my lap and patted her bottomplayfully. Do you remember how I helped you get to this point?”

She didn’t answer, and I didn’t persist. I was making mypoint.

Our arrangement has helped me become more, too. I’m moresecure. I used to be rather intense (I’m no creampuff now). I’m demanding, butI’m not petty. While I insist on improvements from her, I accept her more as aperson.

We’re both more who we were meant to be.

And we’re both happier.

I spank her. She takes it. Who would have thought such aformula could be so helpful?

Who is in Control?

2011-10-21T18:19:00.000-05:00

Didn’t my last entry make me soundall mature and everything? I sure thought so. I mean, as HOH, I’m supposed tobe in control, starting with myself.

But today, it wasn’t happening.

The boys are home for fall break,which means they’re in the way and cramping my style (such as it is). Plus, Lynda had been out of town visitingfamily. I’ve been pining away for her but when she got back, she brought hersister and a cold. So there was noreunion activity

It’s two days later and I’m like ahorse snorting and pawing the ground. But Lynda doesn’t seem to notice. Hersister is gone now but she still has her cold. However, she’s up and busying herself around the house trying to catchup. She’s taking care of the younger boy who still isn’t feeling well, and he’smilking it, like he often does, so I’m mad at him because he’s getting her attention.

I tried to be a good sport by going groceryshopping since she’s busy and has her cold.

I HATE grocery shopping. They never have what I’m looking for. Thestore is a disorganized mess. If I were running this place, I fumed, I’d whipthis place in shape in a hurry.

On with the story. Right.

I get home and start directing everyonein how to unload groceries. Lynda is offher game and doesn’t pay attention to what I’m saying. I want to clap my handsin front of her face to get her attention (but I don’t).

Finally, the boys are busy with theirstupid computer games. I beckon Lynda to the bedroom and then lead her to ourbig closet (the one that muffles the spankings).

I put her over my knee and startwhapping away. Remember that last blog about communication? Forget it!

“I’m really frustrated,” I say. “Don’tknow exactly what about, but you’re getting a spanking for it. Five spanks intoit, I stand her up for a hug and other possessive touching. Then back over myknee.

Smack. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

Smack. “Who do you obey?”

“You”

Smack. “That’s right.”

I stand her back up and the woman issmiling at me! I grab her and move on to further amorous activity.

“Feeling better?” she askedlater.

“A little.” I said, "For now."

“I’ll go fix dinner and then we cango to bed early.”

Good thinking.

I’m wondering, who exactly is in controlhere, because I don’t think it’s me.

So Spank Me Already!

2011-10-21T12:16:00.000-05:00

I usually wait before I spank Lynda, even though if sheknows it’s coming, it will make her come unglued. So why wait?

First, I have to be clear on what happened. If she wasdisrespectful, did I provoke her and does that matter? It might. Or I mighthave misunderstood what she was saying. If she disobeyed but had a reason, wasit good enough? And even if she did do something wrong, would the best thing bea spanking—it’s not always.

It takes time for me to sort through it and get clear.

If she hurt my feelings or if I’m very angry, I have to takethe time to settle down and think clearly.

I don’t think I’ve ever, in the heat of the moment grabbed herand spanked in reactionary anger. There have been times when I’ve been angryand there have been times when it might have seemed sudden to her, and therehave even been times when I haven’t understood clearly what was going on, but I’vealways put the time in to think it over.

She doesn’t make it easy to get clear. She often has anexplanation for her actions that sound reasonable until I’ve had time to thinkit through. Or other times she’ll hit me with a barrage of emotional words thatI can’t make sense of and it takes me a while to realize she’s stalling me.

Sometimes I think it would be better to act more quickly. Infact, once after a spanking, I asked her, “Would it have been better just tospank you and get it over with rather than talk it over so much?” She bobbed her head up and down.

I understand that but it’s worse to spank her when she doesn’tknow why. She handles it better if she’sclear on the reasons why. So the waitand the talk are always part of the spanking.

A Missed Spanking

2011-10-15T21:52:00.001-05:00

“I guess I’m getting a spanking now.”

“You are? Why?”

It wasn’t direct disobedience on her part (it rarely is),but she was going on automatic and did something I had told her not to do. And yes, she ALWAYS gets a spanking when shedoes this kind of stuff because it’s a really bad habit that she has had sincewe’ve been married. She forgets and does something I asked her not to do—or shedoesn’t do something I told her TO do.

And for the first time in my life, I really didn’t want tospank her.

She had been working so hard on other things because she wasgetting ready for a trip—getting ahead on the laundry and cooking things for usto eat while she was away. These are things she has not always done wellbefore, but she was doing them this time and I was pretty pleased with heroverall. So I just didn’t have the heart to spank her.

I told her all this and she didn’t argue with me. She seemedhappy to be off the hook. I like being amerciful HOH.

But there’s something else.

I’ve never made it a secret that I enjoy spanking her. It’sjust a thing with me—I like it. And it makes me feel tremendous affection forher which helps me resolve any resentment that I have developed toward her. We've made our arrangement work by using it to help me lead her into to making somemajor changes that really did have to happen. And she finds relief in theresolution of our conflicts so it works for her, too.

Our move to a new home and my new job has been a happy one.She’s functioning better, enjoying our new house, and I love my new job. There’smuch less stress in our lives and we’re both less frustrated.

I didn’t realize how my spanking her helped me cope with afrustrating life in general. So it makessense that the drive to spank is not so strong now.

However, I still enjoy it and she still expects it.

She’s away for a couple of days. By the way, she didn’tanswer my calls or call me until very late last night, so she will be gettingspanked for that—she knows it drives me crazy.

She texted me first thing this morning using a bunch ofletters that I couldn’t figure out the meaning of. I called her and said, “Okay,I’m sleepy and I can’t figure out what you mean by your text.

I could hear her grin in her voice when she said, “They’rethe same letters you have on your screensaver.” Which is HYSYWT?

“OH YEAH!”

In an earlier post, I told how it stood for “Have You SpankedYour Wife Today?”

Well, yesterday I didn’t. And she’s thinking about that. Infact, she’s teasing me. Even daring me.

She’ll probably be sorry about that when she gets home. But I won’t be.

Mean Old Man

2011-10-06T16:46:00.001-05:00

It’s official. I’m the meanest man in the world.

I made my son go to school today even though he said he wassick, which is not the first time. Since he was little he took too seriouslyevery ache and stomach flutter. Hismother was easily convinced that he was near death, and I would have to dealwith both of them in order to get him to school.

He’s rarely sick. Oh, I believe he feels bad but most of itis anxiety. It has been hard to understand why. I wondered if someone wasbothering him at school or perhaps he was doing poorly in a class, but neitherseems to be the case.

So, like other days I drove him to school. I ignored hispanting and moaning because I’ve heard it before.

This is not easy for me. Everything in me is geared to guardand protect this boy. But my head tells me that I’m the only one who can teachhim to ignore his anxiety produced symptoms and face the day’s tasks.

I’m not sure how it would be with a daughter, but I know thatmost men define their masculinity by their bravery and endurance. Fathers teachtheir sons how to find their strength by forcing them to do things they don’twant to do.

Well, he toughed it out all day at school today. I waswaiting for him when he got in and I asked him if he was feeling better. Hesmiled because he had gotten through his day, but he told me he still feltpretty bad.

I patted his shoulders and then cupped my hand around theback of his head. He is getting tall and lanky. I told him that I was proud ofhim for sticking it out.

And then I confessed to him that I had gotten sick with thesame thing he had and so I came home from work early.

“I owe you a chocolate milkshake,” I said, “as soon as wecan both keep it down.”

We’re both sitting in front of the TV, watching a favoritemovie with plastic bowls nearby just in case.

I’ve had worse days.

And I have a great son.

Better than a mean old man deserves.

A Reader's Questions

2011-09-20T22:33:00.002-05:00

A reader discovered my blog, apparently at random, and subsequentlysubmitted these comments and questions. We rarely get to answer real questionsfrom an “outsider” and I felt this would be an interesting opportunity. Withthis person’s permission I have written the questions and my answers. I inviteyou to add your thoughts to mine.

I am new to your blog. Over the past 2 days I haveread many posts. As an outsider to this life style I find this blogextremely intriguing and confusing at the same time. The more I read the moreconfused I get. I have faced some very tough situations in life. But howevertough it is and however hard it is to put it in words somehow communication hasalways got us through.

I agree thatcommunication is very important and there is no substitute for it. Since webegan this lifestyle, we have learned to talk to each other more effectivelythan ever before. In fact, I would advise that any couple who thinks aboutcommitting to this arrangement needs to talk A LOT before they continue, andthen they need to continue to talk. In fact, if the conversation shuts down,then the spanking should stop.

Somehow violence is so alien to me even if it’s just a'spanking'. What confuses me further is how one can cause pain to a loved oneknowing that the person is not enjoying it?

This is aquestion I have considered ever since we started. There is risk here. Andexperimentation. So things are not always clear every moment we proceed—one ofthe reasons we need to communicate.

I think it’simportant to understand that this is a mutually agreed upon arrangement. Mywife doesn’t like the spanking, but agreed to it before we ever started and shemaintains an overall consent to it. She agreed to it because it has been helpfulto her and to us.

When spankingoccurs, It’s not like I grab her and wrestle her down against her will. She placesherself in position as an act of submission. Submission is always voluntary. Ifit were not voluntary, it wouldn’t be submission.

She has thefreedom to withdraw her consent and I would respect that.

The pain is apart of our power dynamic where she is submissive and I maintain authority.However, it is not serious pain, and it is not injurious (although, I’ll admitthat it can really smart).

How can I doit? Well, I'm conflicted. I don't like inflicting pain, but on the other hand, part of me enjoysthe power. However, I do it because it is good for her and for us. If it was harmful, I wouldn't do it.

You have mentioned in your previous posts that yellingcauses a lot more pain…but am sure there are other ways apart from yelling, spanking,silence, cold wars...like just talking..an adult conversation...Anotherquestion, you have explained many times how she gets a spanking if shedisrespects you but does she not feel you are disrespecting her by spankingher?

These are questionsshe and I have discussed at length. I have worried that this is humiliating ordemeaning to her. I want what’s good for her, not to tear her down. She hasassured me that she feels no disrespect from me, although she’s not alwayshappy with me at the time.

And is this a lifelong set up? What happens if sheoutlives you? Like the Chinese proverb goes 'Give a man a fish and you feed himfor a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime' is it notbetter to teach her to deal with her depression or her other issues than temporarily'resolve' it by spanking her poor bottom?

Believe me, Ithink all the time about what would happen to her if I were gone. She hasneeded but resisted my guidance for nearly three decades. We’ve done thetalking, as well as counseling and medication. I decided we had to use drastic measure whilewe still had time to get control of our lives. I can tell you that she is morefunctional since we started spanking. She’s more communicative. She even fightsmore with me (verbally). My goal is to help her become stronger, morecapable.

How about the times when you cross the line? What happens then? A 2 wayspanking arrangement seems only fair to me!

Somepeople have that arrangement. We don’t . I am the dominant leader. She issubmissive to me. That’s our mutually agreed upon arrangement, where we havedifferent roles. It’s not a mirror-like reciprocal relationship. Instead wehave roles where each of us brings certain things to the marriage.

She has theright to speak to me when I cross a line. In fact, I depend on her to do so. Andit’s my duty to change my behavior and make amends in some way with her if I’vehurt her.

Just out of curiosity, not so relevant question...isher name also made up for this blog or do you use her real name?!

I do not useher real name.

I know you do not have to explain yourself to anyonebut I would really appreciate it if you could take your time out to answermy questions. Thank you in advance... any way your blog is very interesting andyou write very well. Forgive me if I gottoo personal. Hurting people is never my intention.

Nor mine.

I appreciateyour questions and I try to be receptive to any questions or challenges thatare submitted respectfully as you have. Feelfree to comment again.

Mick

Night Time Worries

2011-09-09T10:12:00.000-05:00

We’re all sick with colds at my house

I can’t sleep if Lynda isn’t in bed with me. She can’t sleepif I’m snoring. Well, she can sleep through the snoring okay, but lately it’sthe wheezing that gets to her.

Oh, and I also talk in my sleep. Actually, Lynda says I giveorders in my sleep. Always have.

It’s not funny.

Anyway, the first night was hard. She tried to sleep in therecliner so she could breathe, but she was uncomfortable. I stayed in the bedbut I couldn’t sleep because she wasn’t there. Beside, my own wheezing waswaking me up.

So I spent the night catching up on work.

Speaking of work, I have to be gone overnight. It can’t behelped. It’s part of the job. But I hate being away from home. I’d rather drivefor hours at night in order to be home than stay in a hotel by myself.

I’ve been whimsical in the first part of this post, but Ireally dread being away. It’s gotten worse over the years. When I’m working, I’mokay, but I usually have a panic attack on the nights I’m away. I get thisirrational fear that something bad will happen to my wife and boys while I’maway.

In fact, now that I think about it, I often wake up at homewith a start, worrying about how everyone is. I usually have to look throughthe house at least once in the night. Sometimes I don't go back to bed--I figure I'm just up for the day. I can’t remember when I wasn’t this way.

Sometimes I take something to help me sleep, but not very often. I mean, what if something happened and I needed my wits and reflexes to kick in quickly?

When our firstborn was a baby, he slept in the bed with us(yeah, yeah, I know). Every night, when I woke up with a start, I’d ask thesame question I always ask: “Is everybody alright?” I could reach over andplace my hand on the baby, then his mother, and then fall back asleep.

Both my boys are big lugs now and I’m happy that they sleepon the other end of the house. But I still check on them at night.

Tonight, I’ll stay up as late as possible, hoping I’ll justfall into unconsciousness. And then I’ll wake up in the wee hours to reach outand not feel my wife or children. Then I’ll get up, turn on the TV and waituntil the sun comes up and I can get on with the day and then go home.

I'm not sure how they'll get through the night without me to boss everyone around. Plus, I'm still not over my cold.

Award Winning

2011-09-01T16:35:00.001-05:00

I was watching one of my new favorite shows, "Necessary Roughness," last night. Psychologist to pro athletes, Dr. Dani listens to her client who explains that he didn't mean to insult a beautiful reporter by commenting on her really great looking posterior.

"I just complimented her a$$," he said. "I know she's good at her job and that she has won lot of awards.

"She didn't win an award for her derriere," she explained patiently.

"Yeah, but she SHOULD have," he grinned.

Personally, I found his argument difficult to refute. Plus, it made me laugh my a$$ off..

HYSYWT?

2011-08-31T21:27:00.000-05:00

This is what I put on my screensaver last night, just to help me keep my priorities straight.

HYSYWT?

It stands for:

Have you spanked you wife today?

It's important to maintain consistency. We have to be committed to a regular schedule and then stick to it. This reminds me of my duty throughout the day anytime I refer to my computer. I hate to forget these things.

To answer the question, yes, I have. :).

Insisting

2011-08-27T12:10:00.000-05:00

We’ve gone through a hot dry summer. The tension of moving, a new job, and kids starting a new school, plus some financial issues have caused Lynda and I to be distant from each other. The combination of busyness, fatigue, excitement, and anxiety have done their work on our relationship.

It has been hard to find time for intimacy, and when there was a little time, we were not inclined. Lynda has given me some attitude at times, but hasn’t done any one definite thing to get a spanking. I could give her a maintenance spanking or one just because she makes me a little nuts, but to be honest I’ve been too distracted and drained.

And the same has been true of sex.

Finally we had the day off and the kids were gone. I had told her the night before that I had plans for us. “Get ready to have your personal space violated,” I said, which always makes her grin.

First, we had a catch up spanking to remind her that I’m still very much the leader in our small tribe.

I like to have conversations with her while she’s over my knee. She can’t walk away. She has to listen. She may argue but I will have the last punctuated word. So I aired some thoughts while I “attended” to her.

“I’m still trying to understand why you resist a spanking.” I said.

Since she was looking down at the floor, I’m sure I missed her “Have you lost your mind?” look. I pressed on.

“You don’t mind being unclothed in front of me. You don’t mind being in the submissive position across my lap. And although you don’t like spanking, I’m not really putting you through anything torturous or traumatic. But when I say you deserve a spanking, you always resist. Not physically, but you argue and protest.

“How should I respond?” she asked.

“I guess it wouldn’t be realistic to say, ‘Oh goodie, I get to be punished.’” I said.

She grunted in agreement, or perhaps in response to a spank.

Like I said, she doesn't physically struggle, but she has her ways of resisting. If she knows there’s one coming, she’ll suddenly get very busy, moving about the house, unaware that I’m looking at her. She is completely surprised when I stand in her path and tell her it’s time. She gets this put upon look on her face as she trudges to our bedroom as if to the guillotine. Every part of her communicates how unfair it all is. She sighs several times as she gets ready and in position.

It’s a little similar to sex, although she likes that. If it has been a while and we’ve gotten distant, I have to pierce through this invisible shield by interrupting her and insisting she come to bed with me. The longer we go without, the harder it is to get through that shield.

This is why I started telling her that I would be violating her personal space.

If I want sex, I have to say so. If I’m going to spank her, I have to be man enough to insist on it. That’s part of the deal.

I was pretty insistent on both counts yesterday.

I may insist again today.

A New Perspective

2011-08-26T10:42:00.001-05:00

First, about the boys. School finally started for them last week. I was worried, and they were too, about attending a bigger school. But when they came home after their first day, they were totally jazzed about the new opportunities in this school. The older boy is excited (get this) about taking AP physics and calculus.

They’re both excited about the music program. The younger one will get to play his new electric guitar and the older one will get to be in the jazz band. Turns out that this school has some exceptional music teachers.

Things look better to them and that makes all of us feel better.

O, and Lynda and I both love that they are in school and OUT of the house. I have a day off, they’re gone, and Lynda and I have the place to ourselves. We’ve already made good use of it and it’s not even noon.

In the last entry I saw this as a last year which makes me feel grief. I’m sure it will hit me again, but upon review of my life, I have a different perspective at least for this morning.

First, we’ve moved into a beautiful home surrounded by large trees, bodies of water, and some nearby mountains. Second, I have a job that is an exciting one that I’m made for. Third, my wife is happy to be here. Fourth, my children are finally happy to be here.

Perhaps this could be our best year ever.

The next entry will be coming quickly and it will be about the topic of this blog, I promise.

Not Ready

2011-08-21T20:01:00.001-05:00

I just commented on Sara’s blog about how our changes in life unfold just as they should. Now would somebody tell me the same thing?

And convince me it’s true, please.

The boys are starting school next week. It’s bigger than they’re used to. I’m not worried about their scholastic abilities, but I hope they get along well. They’re used to a smaller school in a tight knit community. This school has an unruly element and a diverse population. It might be unsettling, which will be okay, but I hope they’re safe. The school officials will probably get tired of seeing me appear on their campus in the next few months. But I’m sure they’ll get used to it, because they’ll have to.

Last week I woke up and realized with a start that my older son will be a senior this year. By this time next year, he’ll probably be packing up for college. This is the last year our family will be as it has been. It will be the last year of Thanksgiving and Christmas and birthdays, as we've known them.

I’m not ready for it to be the last year.

I haven’t told the boy enough. I haven’t showed him enough. Does he know how I love him?

I have one more year before he goes. And it will be a full year with his senior activities and my first year at a new job. I'm not sure there's enough time left to accomplish the important things with him that I meant to do.

My God, I’m not ready.

Somehow, I think Lynda is more prepared. She’s been with him more. She knows him better. She’s been thinking about this time longer than I have. This anticipatory grief is not hitting her like it’s hitting me. At least not yet.

I’m just not ready.

Keeping the Conversation Going

2011-08-20T16:02:00.000-05:00

It has been a while. But I wanted to respond to all the comments you gave me on my last post:

Okay okay. I’m hearing all of you. Sometimes she just needs me to listen and comfort. I don’t have to have a solution to every problem. The solution is to offer no solution.

I don’t have to understand this; I just have to accept it. An overwhelming number of you said the same thing and I’m listening.

But without disagreeing, I have a response. Part of it is my needing an outlet for my frustration, but another part of it is to help wives understand their men’s frustration when they try to express their love by launching into action.

First, I am geared to fix problems, especially if it concerns my woman. I am solution oriented. You want to tell me about a problem? I’m going to try to fix it, especially if I care for you. It’s in my DNA.

And ladies, you are often the same way. When I wrote of my problem in the last entry, your reflex was to write in and offer me a solution. Many of you were kind enough to sympathize and “feel my pain.” All of you told me what I could do to fix it (which was to just listen).

I assume you offered me this solution because you care and not because you think I’m stupid or helpless.

I’ll admit that we men can go a bit overboard on solution searching. But because it’s a masculine trait, I assume you like us for it. I mean, it’s the same dynamic that propels us to rescue the damsel in distress and kill the dragons.

Lynda in distress is a call to action for me. I have to override a lot of male impulses to sit down and just listen.

Then to make things really confusing, sometimes she really does need me to be that guy that springs into action. The problem I have is knowing when to do what.

So like I said. Sometimes I need a hint. It would be really great if she could tell me what she needed rather than have me guess.

Because when I’m guessing, I’m going to get it wrong sometimes.

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I really appreciate your letting me know loud and clear what you think.

And so let me say this loud and clear, ladies: when your man searches for a decisive solution to address your distress, he doesn’t think you’re stupid and he’s not trying to be insensitive. He’s throwing himself into helping you because he loves you.

Could I Have a Hint?

2011-08-05T15:48:00.000-05:00

Ladies, I’ll just come right out and say it.

Women are NOT more in touch with their feelings than men. They just talk about them more.

There. I’m glad I said it. I’m not taking it back, either.

Something bothering me? you ask.

I don’t want to talk about it.

Very well, if you must know....

This week, I’ve been trying to get a bead on what my wife is feeling.

“I felt fine until this morning,” she said.

Yeah. I don’t think so. I’ve been seeing the tension build over the last several days.

“You just don’t get it,” she challenges.

She was right about that.

Explain it to me, I request. She can’t. There are lots of words, mind you, but no answer. So I try to steer a bit.

“Can you give me an idea of what’s got you so upset (definition of ‘upset’: anxious, agitated, irritable, teary, angry, discouraged, miffed, indignant, etc).

She mentioned a specific issue. I suggested a course of action.

No, I still didn’t understand. So I pressed. What did I not understand?

She mentioned another issue (unrelated to the first one). I suggested a course of action

Nope, I still didn’t get it right. Then what is it?

She had a bad headache. Did she take something for it?

Yes. Then tears.

And her stomach was upset. She was “jittery.” And she wasn’t ready for school to start.

I reminded her that she wasn’t going to school (ha ha?).

Not funny.

The list went on. Each one unconnected to the last and somewhat disproportionately represented.

I went to work thinking we had major problems.

But get this. The next day, she was fine. Felt great. Not worried. Happy to be alive.

I, on the other hand, had a rough long couple of days at work and at home. I fell on the bed and she bounced into the bedroom to give me a kiss on the cheek.

Here’s where I get whiplash. What was bugging her yesterday? And why the heck is she better today?

Can I spank her because I'm confused and annoyed?

Fun and Games (or My Wife is a Cardsharp)

2011-07-16T15:11:00.002-05:00

We entertained ourselves with our own card game last night.

We kept it simple. Each draws one card and the high card wins. Since this was in the bedroom, you can imagine what we played for. Each hand had its own reward: getting an extra long kiss, being massaged in specific places, having that thing done that drives you wild... you know.

Lynda won every hand.

I’m not kidding. I drew all the deuces. She got most of the aces and face cards. Once I drew an eight and she drew a nine. Consequently, she got all the attention, which she probably deserved and I certainly enjoyed myself, too.

Okay, I have to admit, I didn’t lose every hand.

I won one. Only one.

And as fate would have it, it was the round designated for spanking (no I’m not making this up, and if anyone was cheating, she was).

We hadn’t really set the parameters before the game, so when she was across my lap I had her look at all her winning cards.

“What was the first one?” I asked.

“Oh no,” she said as she realized what I was thinking. “It was a nine.”

I counted out nine fast swats.

“What was the next one?”

“A jack. How many would that be?”

“Eleven, of course.” And she got eleven smacks.

“How much does an ace count?” she said, “It could go either way, you know.”

“Right,” I said. “It could be thirteen regular spanks or one really big one.”

“Go with the thirteen.”

“Right,” I said.

Did I mention she got all four aces?

“You have just been so lucky tonight,” I said as I smacked away.

I try not to be a sore loser when the cards go against me. But I have to say, Lynda was definitely a sore winner for this game. She might have even been a little sore the next morning, too.

Maintaining Something New

2011-07-15T07:53:00.000-05:00

Some call it maintenance. Sara calls is reassurance. Others use the term “good girl spanking.”

Whatever you call it, we tried it the other evening.

It had been a hard day as we took the boys to their camp. We traveled all day, first in searing heat, then in blinding rain, then in terrible traffic including stoplights that I swear are designed to raise my blood pressure. We stopped at restaurants the boys wanted and ate some seriously disgusting fast food—I’ve eaten my last mcnugget, btw.

Finally, we were alone at an overpriced hotel, but the key word here is alone. I looked at my Lynda who was beautiful in her brightly colored skirt and blouse and took her by the hand.

“What’s this for?” she asked as I put her over my knee and began.

“You’ve actually been great,” I said. “You’re helpful. You’re working hard. You’re more pleasant than I am, (She had the good sense to stay silent at that one), and you’re beautiful.

“Let’s call this a good girl spanking,”

“Oh,” she squealed. “Okay.”

And it was. During which, at my prompting she told me she would be submissive and obey me. She even called me sir. It wasn’t a punishment. It wasn’t terribly hard, but it wasn’t exactly patty-cake either.

She liked that she was not getting punished for some failure or mistake. And she likes that I am dominant and aggressive.

It occurs to me that her distress at being spanked is strongly linked to having made a mistake—she hates making one and hates even worse when I let her know through a spanking.

But being dominated by me has never been something she has minded. In fact, I think she waited for years for me to step up to the role.

It was the beginning of an extremely nice evening together.

I can’t wait to do it again.

Someone Who Needs a Spanking

2011-07-14T11:17:00.000-05:00

We like watching “The Closer,” the police drama starring Kyra Sedgwick who plays an expert at getting criminals to confess. She asks clever questions, lies, and manipulates to get what she wants. She does this in her personal life as well. She’s also temperamental, brilliant, charming, stubborn, emotionally mercurial, brave, whiny, compassionate, calculating, and kind of fragile.

It’s a great show but I feel for the character’s husband—she lies to and manipulates him, too.

Last night, I told Lynda, “I usually refrain from saying things like this about others, but that woman needs a spanking in the worst way. And she needs one every day.”

“You HAVE said that about her before.” She said.

“I did?" I said. "Well I was right.”

Time Off

2011-07-12T09:01:00.000-05:00

The boys are off on a church youth trip for a few days. While they’re away, I’m going to be able to take a little time off—I’ve gotten off to a fast start at work and the boss said I should take a couple of days (music to my ears).

Anyway, Lynda and I are going to have most of the week to ourselves.

We have some catching up to do. I told her to be prepared to be naked most of the time.

I’ll let you know if anything interesting happens.

A Matter of Maturity

2011-07-08T10:37:00.000-05:00

It occurs to me that the term “bratting” has an immature quality to it and few grown women want to cultivate it. I contend that women must be fully mature before they can embrace their submissiveness in the DD lifestyle.

In the last post, several women wrote back to say that while it happens occasionally, it’s not something they want to practice. It happens when they’re tired and/or insecure and their emotions lead them to act less maturely than they intend.

Men do it, too, of course.

There is a difference between being emotionally needy and the playful game where the woman engages in “teasing naughtiness” (as Meow calls it) in order to get a spanking. That’s a fun encounter.

This is different from when Lynda goes through a period of being emotional, stubborn, angry, or defensive, and I have to do something to interrupt the behavior. I used to try discussing it. I used to vent my own feelings back at her. I used to simply withdraw. Now, when I’ve had enough, I spank her, and that works most of the time.

What Does Bratting Look Like?

2011-07-06T21:07:00.000-05:00

“Not to put too fine a point on it,” I said as I began an overdue spanking campaign on Lynda’s derriere, “But you’ve been a major pain.”

“I have?” (indignant innocence).

“Yes,” I said while I drove home my point.

“When?” she said.

So I told her about her resistance to my instructions. I told her about her defensiveness. I told her about saying things that upset me just before I had to leave for work.

“Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well maybe I’ll just continue until you get a little clearer on this.”

A few moments later. “Now, to be clear. I love you. I need you. There is no one in the world for me but you. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s make sure.”

And I did. Actually, we had time earlier where I showed my devotion a little more amorously.

I’ve been reluctant to say that my beloved acts like a brat sometimes. However, I'm close to concluding that her defensiveness and resistance, along with the emotional displays, which are pretty quiet but devastating to me, are in fact her way of bratting.

Readers, can you describe what bratting looks like at your house? do you do it deliberately or is it unintentional? I would appreciate being able to make comparisons.

Not Enough of Me to Go Around

2011-07-04T22:45:00.000-05:00

Sara wrote a great entry, as usual, about feeling disconnected from her husband. She described her perspective very well and shows ownership for her feelings. I've no doubt her expressing these thoughts will help her and Grant work through their issues.

It got me to thinking of a conversation I had with Lynda recently that left me frustrated and deflated.

I hope the following gives women a glimpse of the man’s perspective. I also write it to work through my own issues. I tried to not sound like I’m attacking Lynda. I just want her to understand where I’m coming from.

Less than a month ago, we moved to a new town and I took on a new job. We threw our things from the Uhaul into our new house, and the next morning when I dropped into my new office, it was more like stepping into a whirlwind of activities and demands that hasn’t stopped since I got here. With what little time I have left, I come home to help get the house in order and I leave instructions for my family to do the rest. Every night, I fall into bed exhausted.

One morning, I’m up early as usual, before anyone else is conscious, and I get ready for an extra complicated day. Before I leave I sit at the side of the bed to wake my wife. Only she’s already awake and she’s crying.

“Do you still love me?” she asks.

“Yes. Why would you ask such a question?”

“You seem unhappy,” she said. “And you don’t smile. And nothing I do seems good enough.”

I really couldn’t believe I was hearing this. In fact, I was beginning to like my work again. But regardless of that, why did she think I was working so hard? Why did she think we moved here? Why did she think I had worked hard at a job I hated for the last three years? Why did she think I worked my butt off to get the education so I could advance my career? And why did she think I was pressing everyone to get the house in order?

It is for THEM. To give them a life. To make sure they are taken care of. To make sure that Lynda will be taken care of financially if she lives longer than me.

Please don’t tell me that money isn’t all that important. I know that. But I also know that having a roof and food and braces and transportation, and one going to college next year, takes a lot of effort to provide. I am the sole income provider so my wife can be there for the boys.

I also step in and micromanage Lynda’s schedule because she needs it. Our lives are a colossal mess if I don’t. It didn’t get better until I took on the authority that comes in a DD marriage.

I do all of this because I LOVE HER.

I compartmentalize my feelings so I can do my job because I LOVE HER. I often want to tell wives that compartmentalization is a strength their men have, not a limitation.

But I’m not really all that compartmentalized. There isn’t one moment in my day when I’m not thinking about my wife and children. When I attend the meetings that choke my schedule, when I deal with a knot-headed public, when I wrestle with a budget that really lives up to its name--nonprofit, when I hold the hand of a weeping person who comes to me for help, not once do I forget how I love my family. Their faces are always in my mind.

Before this rant sounds like I’m bitter because of what is demanded of me, I want to say that I am a better person because of my family. When the boys were born, I realized I had to go back to school. Having a family motivated me to try harder, and it has made me grow up.

I also love my career. I love this new job and I’m grateful to have it. I’ll even admit (grudgingly) that I couldn’t do this new job without having gone through the hell of the last job. So I’ve gotten some satisfaction.

Am I flawless? Nope. Can I be insensitive? Yep. Do I sometimes neglect something important? Yeah.

But I want to say to my wife, “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t question my love for you. It takes the wind out of my sails and it downright hurts my feelings.”

Spanking Authority

2011-07-01T20:29:00.000-05:00

I had been busy for the last three weeks at my job every day, all day, as well as most evenings. Lynda had started unpacking with energy but now she was bogged down, overwhelmed, and becoming ineffective. She complained that she couldn’t make the boys get out of bed and that they resisted her when she gave them something to do.

It was my day off and time for Dad to step in.

The boys may have resisted her, but I’m a pretty irresistible guy, so I went to their bedrooms and told them to drag their sorry carcasses out of bed because we had work to do.

Later, the older boy got frustrated with his mother who couldn't make up her mind where she wanted him to move some boxes. I could sympathize with him, but I told him to sweeten up fast because he’d be having bad day otherwise.

Then I got the same thing from Lynda that frustrated the boy: vague responses in an anxious, irritated tone.

This is long term behavior, and even now, with my HOH credentials firmly established it can unhinge me. I want to yell at her, which makes her worse. I want to grab her and spank the daylights out of her in frustration, but that wouldn’t help either.

So I sat down with her. I told her I didn’t like the anxious, angry tones she directed at me.

“It’s how I process things.” she said. “It’s just how I sound.”

“I see, so you’re telling me that you’re not all that agitated. You’re really feeling just fine?”

“Well…, I could just not say anything but you don’t like that either.”

“You’re right about that. Getting nothing at all from you is worse than this. And anybody hearing the way you've been speaking to me this morning would interpret your tone as angry.

"You need to change that with me. I don’t deserve it. I also expect you to answer my questions and work with me. If you don’t know something, that’s fine, you can say that. But don’t act like I shouldn't have asked you.”

“Okay.”

We went to work. We accomplished a lot, though there’s still plenty to do for another day.

I took us out for lunch and ordered in for supper so Lynda didn’t have to cook. In the afternoon, the older boy bounced into the living room and pronounced himself in a good mood.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“I think because I’ve been up and moving.”

“That’s good because tomorrow, you’re mowing the lawn.”

Lynda is feeling better, too. We had some time to watch a movie this evening. Now she’s taking a shower while I write this.

The moral of this story is that because I have authority that I can back up by spanking, I was able to modify Lynda’s behavior. I didn’t have to threaten or intimidate her because I have authority.

In earlier years, she might have gone to bed in depression and I would have left the house in frustration. And we both would have abandoned the children.

But today is a different story.

Back in Business

2011-06-29T22:04:00.000-05:00

So okay, the drought is over and we have had a couple of occasions for spankings. No big offenses. Just enough to warrant some HOH attention from me. Finally.

One was for ignoring me when we were in public. She didn’t respond when I was getting her attention because she was “busy.” I really don’t like being ignored.

The other was for not paying following some of my directions for the day.

Both are spankable offenses in our house and neither were neglected.

I discovered something great about our new home. Lynda has a big closet all for herself and she’s already filled it—it’s going to need straightening soon. The great thing is that there’s enough room for us to sit in there where I can attend to her. The best thing is that it’s separate from most of the house, and all the clothes muffle the sharp smacking sounds. So no more having to wait for pesky boys to leave the house.

Lynda was delighted. I could tell ;).

One Pic is Worth a Thousand Words

2011-06-23T05:48:00.000-05:00

Audra sent me a picture that pretty much says it all for me right now. Thought you'd like to see it.

At the bottom it says, "I'm spanking you because I'm angry with you for not giving me any good reason for spanking you!"

Makes perfect sense to me.

I Miss It

2011-06-22T09:04:00.001-05:00

I miss spanking her.

I’d love to say that spanking is merely a tool I use for her betterment. Many husbands in this lifestyle practice it because their wives requested it, and if given the choice they’d rather not do it. This doesn’t describe me.

It so happens that spanking is good for my wife. We have used it in a way that has helped her get past some self sabotaging behaviors. She doesn’t like the spanking, doesn’t crave it, and doesn’t miss it when we go for a long period without it.

But I do.

We’ve been so busy. My new job, which I love, btw, has gotten off to a fast start and is taking a lot of time. She’s busy with the boys and with getting the house organized. And she really is getting things organized without a lot of help from me--which is good because I don’t have much time to help her.

So.... We’re busy. Little time. Little privacy with the boys at home. And little reason to spank because she’s doing well.

What’s a spanko to do?

Bloggus Interruptus

2011-06-03T07:27:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone. We're loading up and cleaning up. Our internet service is interrupted and we will be out of touch until next week. Those of you who email me, don't feel rejected, I'll answer back as soon as I can. I'll try to check in here as soon as possible.

There hasn't been much intimate activity for us lately. Too much chaos and anxiety. But late last night, I told Lynda to slide over to my side of the bed and let me remember why I'm doing all this. We were too tired for anything else, but it was nice. And I shared this with her"

"These last few days I haven't been the leader I want to be. But I'm still in charge. When we get into our new home, you will do the work I assign you in a timely fashion. You can expect to be in my arms and over my knee on a regular basis."

"Okay," she said. Then after a short pause, she told me she loved me.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

The Dragon is Winning

2011-05-28T17:39:00.000-05:00

Stormy wrote a really nice entry on the difference between a prince and a knight (click here). I’ve often admired the imagery of the medieval knight, and just between you and me, that’s how I want to be: slaying the dragons and rescuing my fair maiden.

But today the dragon seems to be winning.

I’m down to the last few hours of packing before I have to go out of town. When I get back, we’ll be loading up and moving to our new town. So it’s time for the big push where everything left out is going into boxes.

But suddenly, I don’t have any strength. My body has quit on me and wasn’t even able say much to Lynda because I couldn’t finish my sentences.

Lynda said it was okay, that she and the boys could cover the rest of the day’s tasks. She reminded me that I was up before any of them doing things that only I can handle, and I also had both cars serviced. I’ve had to travel almost a thousand miles in the last two days, and I’ll have to do it again this next week. Plus, I’ve had to go into the office several times today.

She made me feel better, but I feel foolish and ashamed. It feels like invisible chains are tying me down. I don’t want for my boys to see me lying down while there’s so much to be done.

On the other hand, Lynda is rising to the occasion. While she has been overwhelmed occasionally in the last few weeks, she’s up and moving now. Things are moving slower than we'd like and there's plenty of strain to go around but she's getting the job done.

She told me that while I was away, she could get some help from a couple of friends to do the final tasks. Maybe my maiden doesn’t need so much rescuing today.

I’m proud of her for pulling herself together, but it’s a bit of a switch. At this moment in our lives, I’m depending on her rather than the other way around.

Having Control Means Being In Control

2011-05-14T04:33:00.001-05:00

TTWD can be intense and I can see where it could spiral out of control for couples to where someone could get injured physically or emotionally. So I remind myself why we do what we do. And I remember that as the leader, more power requires more responsibility (will I ever quit thinking of Spiderman when I say that?).

I do this for the relationship. I may fall under the category of spanko, but in the context of DD, I spank Lynda because it helps us both. I spank because yelling at her in frustration is more traumatic than a slap session on her bottom. I spank to maintain my leadership in an arrangement that she and I have both agreed on. I spank to resolve the tension between us. I spank because it resolves her guilt and anxiety, and often her anger (sometimes it increases her anger but we’re talking long term here).

I do not threaten. I either do or I don’t. Threatening comes from a position of weakness and it brings me down to the level of bullying. The only time I might give her a warning is when I truly want to help her avoid a spanking.

I have spanked her when I really didn’t feel like it. I don’t always want to be in charge and at times I’ve wanted/needed something different than this kind of session with her. But consistency is part of the deal.

I do not spank to injure. I’ve caused a few marks, but I avoid it when I can. I’ve never caused welts or broken the skin. I know each couple has a different threshold here and I’m not judging if others have agreed to take it further. But I’m not looking to give a beating; I looking to make a statement or change a behavior.

I remember that I’m trying to make things better between us.

A Friendly Spanking... Sort of

2011-05-05T06:10:00.000-05:00

Lynda wasn’t paying attention to the laundry situation and I had to recycle an item of clothing yesterday. This falls into one of those zero tolerance zones. Being five minutes late, not having dishes to eat off of, and running out of underwear will garner a spanking every time.

And she got one for this occasion.

I know. We’re moving. We’re busy. We all have to do extra.

“Doing extra means exactly what it says,” I explained on a previous spanking occasion. “It means you’re expected to do more stuff, not simply trade one chore for another.”

Totally reasonable, imho. But she differed with me yesterday.

“You didn’t tell me you were running low,” she said. “Usually, you tell me.”

“So it’s MY fault that you didn’t do your job?”

“Well, it YOUR underwear.”

I swear this woman gets mouthier every year. I kind of like it, to tell the truth. It wasn’t a severe session. Just sort of a friendly reminder.

Well okay, I felt friendly.

Nevertheless, this spanking wasn’t going the direction I intended. Today, we'll replay this scene until we get our lines right.

Finding Our Way Back

2011-05-02T20:50:00.000-05:00

First, I’m sorry to have gone silent for a while. We are so busy and stressed that there’s not much mental or physical energy left for blogging. But here are some thoughts that continue along the same lines as the last entry.

I am aware that some of you want, and maybe even crave the cathartic response you have when you get a spanking. Many of you have written that you weren’t aware of how much you needed to be taken past your normal point of resistance, but when it happened, you were in better shape.

There have been two occasions when I used spanking to try to bring out some of the emotions I knew lay deep within Linda. Both times I regretted doing so. It made her frightened, furious, and hysterical. If she was better after the storm, then I would have considered it worthwhile, but it left her with great fear. She REALLY doesn’t want to lose control of herself to that degree.

She was afraid and resistant to return to spanking. I’ve been so tired and stressed that I haven’t pressed her and maybe it was good for us to have some time to think things over. However, I finally decided it was time to deal directly with the issue.

“First,” I said. I realize I took you past a point that you could handle, and I see that it was unhelpful to you, and for that I’m sorry. I will watch closely to make sure I don’t push you to that point again.”

She nodded.

“You have the right suspend this arrangement, but let me ask you these questions:

“First, do you agree that we are closer to each other since we started spanking?”

“Yes,” she answered.

"Do you agree that our life is more manageable now than before? That our house is in order and that we take care of business more efficiently?”

“Do you agree that you are more productive and produce more artwork since I’ve started spanking you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you see that you have fewer bouts with depression?”

“Yes.”

“And can you look back and see that the bouts you have had are shorter and less severe?”

“Yes.”

“I cannot promise that I will NEVER push you beyond your limits, but I promise never to try for it, and I promise to continue to pay close attention and stop if you’re in danger of reaching that limit. With that promise, are you willing to continue with our arrangement?”

“Yes,” she said once more.

So we’re back.

Uncertainties

2011-04-08T07:21:00.000-05:00

It happens to all us bloggers, doesn’t it? We get involved in the writing and the community and then that pesky noncyber life gets in the way.

Empty boxes lie about the house waiting to be filled as we sort through all our stuff. Work feels impossible. Lynda and I are uneasy with each other.

The last spanking was too severe. She has an emotional limit. If I push her past it, it sets her back. It has only happened once before, and I watch closely for it but I missed it.

The next day she was still upset and told me she wasn’t sure she could continue with spanking. This was a different context from her protesting because she didn’t want a deserved punishment. I reminded her that this was consensual and she had the right to stop this arrangement. She didn’t say anything else. For days.

We haven’t spoken about it for two weeks. I needed to initiate more discussion. But the truth is I haven’t had a lot of strength for it. There’s so much political struggle going on at the office. I function every day in a place where I can’t trust anyone. When I come home I’m so tired that I can’t even raise my arms, and I know I’m not communicative.

Plus I can’t sleep at night.

Lynda has been scared, distracted, and ineffective in preparing to move. She is forgetful and beginning to not be able to find her words. We’re losing ground.

Yesterday, she was late, and kept me and another couple waiting for an appointment. Her phone was accidently turned off. When she finally showed, she said she’d just lost track of the time. When we were in the car by ourselves, she was argumentative with me. “People do lose track of time, occasionally,” she said with just a hint of superiority.

If you read this blog, you know that being late and being kept waiting without explanation makes me crazy. I had been fuming silently until that last line of hers, and then I started yelling.

She hates a spanking, but it traumatizes her when I yell.

This wasn’t working.

When were home by ourselves, I ordered her over my knee. “I know we’re at an uncertain place at the moment, but there is no way we’re going to keep on like this,” I said. I was careful not to get close to that undefined limit, but I made my point.

Our physical contact reminded me it had been a long time since we touched each other in any way, so we transitioned to a predictable, but nonetheless intense activity.

We still haven’t talked this through. But last night after this incident, the boys were home and we all watched the movie, “Harvey,” with Jimmy Stewart, which the boys had not seen. Lynda and I caught some innuendo in the movie that we hadn’t noticed before, and we both laughed a lot—something else that hadn’t happened in a while.

It’s early in the morning, but not as early as before. I just looked at my watch and realized that I have slept for EIGHT straight hours through the night. I can’t remember how long it has been since that happened.

I know that sex makes us sleep better, but maybe the Valium helped, too. Whatever. In any case, the world seems a little more possible today.

Landing on our Feet

2011-03-28T22:55:00.000-05:00

It looks like we’re going to be okay.

I have a new job waiting for me at the end of the school year. It’s a lateral move and it’s very far away from here, which is okay by me.

I’m grateful to be able to continue to provide for my family but we have much to do as we prepare to move—I’m sure you can imagine. For this move, I have two sturdy teenage boys to help and Lynda and I are sure going to need them.

Thank you all for your good thoughts and we appreciate your continued prayers.

The Captain of my Ship

2011-03-22T19:25:00.000-05:00

Everything is still the same. Lynda has grief, my job status is in question, my parents are sick, and our older son is going to the prom (with two girls).

Imagine me as the captain of a ship, standing with steely resolve at the bow while the boat rocks in the storm. My chiseled features are impervious to the wind and rain. Without shouting my voice rises above the sound of the tempest as I give out calm, clear orders that will guide our vessel to shore.

You have to imagine it because real life is a little different. In real life we have sleepless nights and we all snap at each other. We often have little to say to each other. We’re not mad, just tired. Well, okay, I think Lynda is a little mad right now, but I’ll get to that in a minute. I come home from work so tired I can’t lift my arms and my wife has been sinking into her anxiety ridden depression.

I’m not always calm. I might be just the tiniest bit cranky and tired. Sometimes I have to make sure my voice doesn’t crack and I think I’m getting a pimple

Lynda is shaken. She’s talking and functioning less. I haven’t kept her on track with her chores, which gives her some structure. I woke up today and decided that no matter what, I had to take care of business.

We started the morning with a catch up spanking over things she didn’t do last week. I told her I still expected her to pay attention and do what I said. Did she understand? Yes, she said she did.

I came home at lunch and she hadn’t done the things I told her to do. Mostly she had wandered around the house doing very little, which I thought would happen.

Every time I talk about how I deal with her depression, there’s always at least one person who writes in and suggests that spanking won’t help her depression, that there are other things that should be tried. And I agree to a point. We’ve tried and still use those other things. But additionally, I administer a spanking.

So she went over my knee for the second time that day.

This makes her mad so don’t tell her what I’m about to say. Okay? Technically the spanking was for punishment, but mostly it was to pull her out of her funk and bring her emotions closer to the surface.

Lynda often shows very little emotion, but that often means she has many feelings churning about inside—I often think that’s what makes her stomach churn so much. Sometimes a spanking will bring those feelings out.

But it didn’t. There were few tears and then the same sad look as before. I tried to get her to talk about her feelings but she couldn’t. So I made a decision.

“We’re not through with this spanking, yet,” I said, “You have to get over my knee again.”

I made her turn her face toward me so I could watch her. And I pushed her limits a little. I’ve learned to be careful about doing this but I decided it was important.

She was getting very red when she said, “Okay, I think that’s enough.”

I thought it was too, but I don’t like being ordered, so I smacked her a couple more times and said, “I decide these things, not you."

And that’s when the volcano erupted. She rose to her knees and screamed as she pounded the mattress. I’ve seen this before and it always scared me because it happens suddenly and rarely.

I thought I would see tears, but instead I saw the anger, which when I think about it, is no surprise.

Then it was over quickly.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Your feelings are what they are,” I said. “Sometimes it bothers me, but you have a right to have and express them. I can deal with it. And the mattress can take a hit.”

I told her to stay in bed the rest of the afternoon and that I would bring supper home after work.

As I write this, I wonder how she really is. I think she’s puzzled by her own feelings. They churn and occasionally explode.

The storm is raging, especially in my wife, and I’m captain of the ship. God help us.

What Kind of Underwear?

2011-03-17T07:17:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone.

I haven't been able to write for the last few days. My job is in crisis and we may be looking to move soon. Can't get into it but it's very complicated. I had to tell the children about some of this and they're upset, although they're supportive of their proud dad.

Lynda is not doing well. Very distracted and emotionally fragile. In a little over a year, she's lost her mother and her brother and she's wrestling through her grief.

I feel like Norm in the TV show Cheers, who said, "It's a dog eat dog world and I'm wearing Milkbone underwear."

I'm not able to keep up with writing and reading your blogs as much, but I'm still interested in you. I'll be happy to answer any comments or emails but I may not have anything interesting to share on the blog for a few days.

Rethinking Old Assumptions

2011-03-05T08:53:00.001-06:00

Shortly after posting this, Sara offered a comment with some great information--don't miss it, as well as the other valuable things shared by commenters.

I have noted a large number of women in this community who have shared that they suffered abuse and violence in their childhoods and past relationships. These same women have sought out DD relationships and feel a strong desire for being spanked by a strong man.

There is a large number of women who have been abused in the general public too. But is there a correlation?

Why would a person who has been brutalized in the past want her husband to inflict the pain of a spanking on her? There are some who crave more kinds of pain and dominance than that. Wouldn’t they want to stay as far away from that as possible after such a terrible experience?

Some argue that being abused has made them sick and they can only associate love with pain. That’s why they feel loved when they’re spanked, even though it hurts. But is it true? Abused women do not look or act happy, and they are mired in terrible depression. If a woman who is spanked by her husband is happy, productive, and feels loved by her husband, then she just doesn’t fit the profile of an abused person.

And I wonder about something else. It’s easy to start blaming a woman for being abused. Why did she marry him? Why does she stay with him? Why does she pick the same kinds of men? I’ve asked those questions and I haven’t found clear answers.

Some people say that abused women have a sickness of their own, a pathology that makes them attracted to abusive men. Again—we're saying it’s sort of their fault.

But what if many young women are just naive? They like strong men. They are attracted to leaders. They just don’t know what one looks like when he’s young. So they make their best choice amongst the young men out there. They pick the angry bullying “bad” boys over the “nice” boys because they want someone who will be strong as they grow older. How could they know that bossy, tantrum throwing boys grow up to be mean selfish men? There was no pathology on the woman’s part, just inexperience.

It’s probably a gross oversimplification. But it might explain why so many beautiful, intelligent, capable young women pick such losers for husbands.

It occurs to me that some women would find this a hard thing to talk about, but perhaps there are some out there who have learned some things from their experiences.

Saying it Right

2011-03-03T08:38:00.001-06:00

I probably don’t say it enough, but I sure appreciate your reading this blog and I really value your comments. You help me more than you can realize with your insight and encouragement.

Occasionally, someone will offer a comment on our blogs that offends. That has happened lately in other blogs. It happens in all communities. There’s no getting around it.

What amazes me is how respectful most people usually are. It occurs to me that the subject of spanking, sexuality, and DD could lend itself to vulgarity and meanness, but it hasn’t been the case. I suppose there’s a fine line somewhere about appropriateness. Earthy is okay, but vulgarity is not. Directness is okay, but not meanness. We talk about personal things, but there is an issue of privacy that we all protect. And generally, though we can’t always explain it, we usually know where those lines are.

Just so you know, I’m not offended if your lifestyle is different from mine. Your perspective is valuable to me, even if we disagree. I always appreciate people who urge me to look at things differently, and I don’t mind answering questions from people who might be troubled by what I write. And if you think I’m just plain wrong about something, I can usually take it.

Sometimes someone is very anxious or upset and wants to challenge me or perhaps just the idea I’m addressing. I usually understand that and I try not to take that too personally either. Really, that person is searching for answers and maybe support, too.

When someone does happen to write something that crosses a line (and it’s really rare), I usually just delete the comment and I don’t answer at all. I have challenged a couple of people, but usually it’s because I have some hope we can come to an understanding. But generally, I try not to rise to the bait of someone who just wants to fight.

Here are a couple of things I don’t like: If someone gets too graphic in imagining my wife in their own mental scenario, it’s not going to appear on this blog. People can have their fantasies but they can keep my wife out of it. Second, I delete comments that harshly criticize the other commenters.

But it would be a shame if people got so careful they just quit commenting. I hope you feel safe enough to express your thoughts. You don’t have to walk on eggshells in expressing yourself. You don’t have to worry if your words are a little clumsy or you don’t get it said just right or you have some intense feelings that spill out in your words.

It’s possible to have conflict with each other, even if we all have good intentions. After all, the feelings we have invested in ttwd are powerful and sometimes we’re fragile. I hope to offer enough room on this blog to mend conflicts between honest people.

Thanks for reading and I hope you have a terrific day.

My Mistake, Her Spanking

2011-03-01T09:25:00.000-06:00

I stomped about the house. That teenage boy was driving me crazy and so was his mother.

Before school, I spoke critically and used hurtful words toward my son. I had a reason to be angry with him but I spoke too harshly. I could see his spirit had taken a hit.

When he mother stepped in to defend her son against the big bad dad. I walked away and raged.

That boy has got to grow up, I thought as I fumed and paced. He’s got to take responsibility. And that woman has once again interfered between him and me.

The boy skulked out of the house. I’d deal with him later. Right then, I pictured myself grabbing Lynda and throwing her across my lap to paddle her bottom bright pink.

But I didn’t. I do not spank when I am that angry. I spank her when I’ve decided she needs correction.

The truth is, I sort of figured she might be right. Which really made me mad. I went back to talk with her. She stood her ground, and explained her thoughts.

Yup. She was right. Damn.

But she was also wrong. She needed to let the boy and me work this out ourselves, which we would have. She made it worse by stepping in to “save” her baby boy. But he’s not a baby and I’m not the boogie man. We love each other and we need the chance to work things out just between us.

In that instant, it just wasn’t her business.

I know, I know. Moms everywhere in blogland are typing into their keyboards with flaming fingers about the ferocious protectiveness they have for their children. Don’t get threaten the cubs when Momma Bear is around, they say.

I get it. I get it because I’m Poppa Bear.

But I didn’t threaten him. I hurt his feelings. It was up to me to make amends. She needed to allow us the dignity of finding our way back to each other.

She could have helped by telling me her thoughts later. And they were good thoughts.

She gets a spanking anyway.

I’ve been challenged before about this: “It’s not fair that she gets a spanking when you did wrong, too.” Yes, and if we want to really put the scales to it, my offense was worse.

So why the spanking?

I’ll try to explain. If people still don’t get it, then they don’t and the heck with it.

Spanking Lynda is one way I take care of her. It’s not pleasant for her, but it reminds her that I’m in charge and in control. It keeps her world in order. I do it when she does wrong. I do it even if I’ve done wrong too and have something to apologize for.

If I didn’t carry it through, she would be shaky for days. She might even do something else unconsciously to get a spanking.

In the evening, I sat down with the boy. I felt tired and beat up after a stunningly bad day, but I found some joy as I looked at my tall handsome son. It was not hard at all to apologize to him. Then I said “I was thinking about other people’s children, and I realized how lucky I am to have you for a son.”

And since I’m on the subject, I’m lucky to have a beautiful wife. In a few minutes I’m going to tell her that and admit I was wrong. I'll tell her while she lies across my lap just before she gets her spanking.

Spanking Her out of the Darkness

2011-02-22T19:53:00.000-06:00

It annoys Lynda if I ask her for reassurance that spanking is doing her good. She doesn’t like for her leader to show doubt or insecurity.

I understand, but it’s not just emotional reassurance I’m looking for. I need feedback to make sure ttwd is helping her feel happier. If it is only for my benefit at her expense, I wouldn’t continue.

If this were abuse, she would decrease in spirit. By that I mean her personality would be diminished, her self esteem would evaporate, and she would be more fearful, as happens with abused spouses. Abuse takes away what makes a person who she is.

So I’ve looked hard to make sure domestic discipline is not just a nice word for domestic abuse.

I observe that the women bloggers I read who practice DD hardly seem diminished. And I know that Lynda is more productive and doing more things she enjoys than before we started DD.

Not long ago, I asked Lynda how she felt about life in these recent years. I saw the light of realization turn on in her eyes as she saw that she has had fewer episodes of depression and those she had were much shorter in duration. I had seen that, but it was good to see that she recognized it, too.

She has had some bad days in the wake of her brother’s death. Days when a call from a relative or even a stray thought bring on the feeling of loss. I figure we’re going to have this for a while. I understand that grieving is a part of life and there’s no getting away from it.

I discussed this with her and I pointed out that I would have to decide at any given time if she needed to take a break to accommodate her sadness, or if I thought she needed to press on with her day. She would have to trust me and follow my directions.

I said this as if I’m sure I can tell what she will need to do in any given circumstance, but of course, I may not. But I fear she would flounder without my help. I’ll have to make the best choices I can based on what I see and know.

I decided something else, too.

“I generally spank only as punishment,” I said. “And generally, if you get depressed, you usually do something that calls for a spanking. But if I see you sinking too far into your old depression, I will put you over my knee to try to bring you out of it, even if you haven’t done anything specifically to warrant it.”

Once again, I speak as if I know exactly what I’m doing, and of course, I don’t. But I believe the main thing is that I lead with confidence, not only in myself, but in her that she can find her strength.

Even if I have to spank her to get her to do it.

Dating Update

2011-02-19T14:24:00.001-06:00

That stuff I wrote about coaching my son on dating?

Forget it.

It was late a couple of nights ago, when he sat next to me. I was dozing in my recliner like I usually do, when he gave me his news rather matter-of-factly. He had to say it three times before it got through to my brain.

“I’m going to the prom with someone.”

“You are?” I tried not to sound amazed. “Who is she?”

“Actually,” he said, “I’m going out with two girls.”

I was fully awake now.

“Really? How did you manage that?”

“Well… they asked me.”

‘I see.” I said judiciously.

“Have you told your mom?”

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

“She just laughed.”

Maniacally, I’ll bet.

His mother told me later that he’s excited about wearing a tux. “I’ll look like James Bond,” he had said to her.

“He looks more like James Bond than that latest guy they have,” I replied.

But I digress.

I looked them up on Facebook. They’re cute and artistic, perhaps like his mother. (Oh,God, this is serious!).

We live in a small town and my rational self tells me that this sounds more like friends going out with each other. I’m going to keep telling myself this--but I’m not buying it.

I always thought it was probably good we did not have daughters. I would have scared the liver out of any boy that even looked their direction.

But it turns out I’m just as protective of my son. I’m not sure how to proceed, though. If I had a daughter, I’d put mirrored sunglasses on, strap on my six-shooter, and greet any would-be suitor with a pump action shotgun.

Somehow I can’t see myself doing that to the two young ladies who’ll be going to the dance with my son.

However I can picture myself standing before them with the biggest paddle I can find and slapping it deliberately against my palm when I say to them, “You girls have a REAL nice evening.”

Yeah.