D: What do you want to get done today.
M: I want to clean in the sewing room. It is messy again and some laundry.
D: Sounds like a plan. Can you look for my suit coat today? I have misplaced it.
M: will do
Ok doesn’t sound too hard does it? I chose the task. I chose what I wanted to tackle today. Just like last week with only one difference. Last week he was holding me accountable for my daily task but I never had to find out what he was up to. Why am struggling today?
This week I know and this is the week I choose to goof off? The sewing room is improved but not to my standard and school work didn’t get done. I let the kids play outside. I felt off all day.
Two times out of the year I fall apart. The loss during a holiday outshines the joy. Right after thanks giving I start crying and morning for a little lost baby. She was the last of four miscarriages and the one I carried the longest. She already had a name. Sarah Faith. I was probably too thin to carry a baby to term. At 93 lbs. I was skin and bones. We tried for months to get pregnant and we were both starting to loose home that we could have a second child. Joy filled our home when the ept test was positive. Every day passed, we relaxed a little more, thinking that this baby would be carried to term. My Christmas tree is decorated in angels in memory of my little lost one.
Independence day soured 21 years ago. My father passed away July 1 and his funeral was on the 4th. Who knows when the process starts but by June 15 I am a basket case. I don’t dwell on it. Most of the time, I don’t even know what is wrong. Crying, withdrawing from my family, the sewing room is empty. From my father, I learned unconditional love. He was never very loving. I don’t think he knew how to love but he tried his best. I loved him enough for both of us. He was 39, I was 18.
This year Dragon decided to use his new “tool box” to help me handle my grief. A task only last for 15 minutes but that is 15 minutes spent out of bed. Even with his hectic schedule this summer, he is taking the time to take care of me. Last week he would have given a warning during a firm lecture. This week I’m not so sure I get a warning for a task left undone. Not now that know it is a punishable offence.
I am happy that he is trying but not so sure that I like his methods. Not this week. All I want to do is cry and now he is telling me that he is enforcing something new. He has given me daily task since we lost little Faith. Some days his daily task and phone call is the only reason I get out of bed. Now it is enforced with the paddle. He is right. It is something that I wimp out on. Some how I have this strange feeling I know why I’ll get that next punishment.
I’ll be better of if I just have a little cheese with my whine. This IS what I ASKED for after all. I brought it to our marriage. Did I mention that he was about to bring it up himself? I beat him by just a few short weeks. He was going to initiate it. So I guess you can call DD a mutual decision for us. Not a his vs. her idea. .
My backside is still sore from this weeks reminder. He started it Saturday night after a very busy day. He told me to put the computer down, strip and lay on the bed. The swats started gentile and easy to take. I thought this was going to be another erotic session.
Boy was I wrong!
The swats started coming faster and harder until I was ready to run for it. He had to put his leg over me to hold me in place. What a brat. I couldn’t keep still. I tried every evasive maneuver known to every spanked wife in history. And still the swats kept coming. I had safe words but for some reason it didn’t occur to me to use them. Wish I had. He finally stopped and held me all night. No, he didn’t let me dress.
Sunday morning he continued the session with more hard fast swats. Not as many and not as long. He says I needed it. I can’t stay in bed and let the world go by without me. I have to get out and enjoy life just a little, he says.
I’m trying but I’m not so sure a sore backside is helping. These new rules are bring out the defiant brat in my personality. Definitely don’t like that part. I’ll have to wait and see how the week goes.
Wish me luck and say a prayer!
M: I want to clean in the sewing room. It is messy again and some laundry.
D: Sounds like a plan. Can you look for my suit coat today? I have misplaced it.
M: will do
Ok doesn’t sound too hard does it? I chose the task. I chose what I wanted to tackle today. Just like last week with only one difference. Last week he was holding me accountable for my daily task but I never had to find out what he was up to. Why am struggling today?
This week I know and this is the week I choose to goof off? The sewing room is improved but not to my standard and school work didn’t get done. I let the kids play outside. I felt off all day.
Two times out of the year I fall apart. The loss during a holiday outshines the joy. Right after thanks giving I start crying and morning for a little lost baby. She was the last of four miscarriages and the one I carried the longest. She already had a name. Sarah Faith. I was probably too thin to carry a baby to term. At 93 lbs. I was skin and bones. We tried for months to get pregnant and we were both starting to loose home that we could have a second child. Joy filled our home when the ept test was positive. Every day passed, we relaxed a little more, thinking that this baby would be carried to term. My Christmas tree is decorated in angels in memory of my little lost one.
Independence day soured 21 years ago. My father passed away July 1 and his funeral was on the 4th. Who knows when the process starts but by June 15 I am a basket case. I don’t dwell on it. Most of the time, I don’t even know what is wrong. Crying, withdrawing from my family, the sewing room is empty. From my father, I learned unconditional love. He was never very loving. I don’t think he knew how to love but he tried his best. I loved him enough for both of us. He was 39, I was 18.
This year Dragon decided to use his new “tool box” to help me handle my grief. A task only last for 15 minutes but that is 15 minutes spent out of bed. Even with his hectic schedule this summer, he is taking the time to take care of me. Last week he would have given a warning during a firm lecture. This week I’m not so sure I get a warning for a task left undone. Not now that know it is a punishable offence.
I am happy that he is trying but not so sure that I like his methods. Not this week. All I want to do is cry and now he is telling me that he is enforcing something new. He has given me daily task since we lost little Faith. Some days his daily task and phone call is the only reason I get out of bed. Now it is enforced with the paddle. He is right. It is something that I wimp out on. Some how I have this strange feeling I know why I’ll get that next punishment.
I’ll be better of if I just have a little cheese with my whine. This IS what I ASKED for after all. I brought it to our marriage. Did I mention that he was about to bring it up himself? I beat him by just a few short weeks. He was going to initiate it. So I guess you can call DD a mutual decision for us. Not a his vs. her idea. .
My backside is still sore from this weeks reminder. He started it Saturday night after a very busy day. He told me to put the computer down, strip and lay on the bed. The swats started gentile and easy to take. I thought this was going to be another erotic session.
Boy was I wrong!
The swats started coming faster and harder until I was ready to run for it. He had to put his leg over me to hold me in place. What a brat. I couldn’t keep still. I tried every evasive maneuver known to every spanked wife in history. And still the swats kept coming. I had safe words but for some reason it didn’t occur to me to use them. Wish I had. He finally stopped and held me all night. No, he didn’t let me dress.
Sunday morning he continued the session with more hard fast swats. Not as many and not as long. He says I needed it. I can’t stay in bed and let the world go by without me. I have to get out and enjoy life just a little, he says.
I’m trying but I’m not so sure a sore backside is helping. These new rules are bring out the defiant brat in my personality. Definitely don’t like that part. I’ll have to wait and see how the week goes.
Wish me luck and say a prayer!
Yeh, it's not good when the punishment is coming and you are feeling more defiant! I had that day today. I realized it was because my feelings on the subject weren't being validated. Ugh!
ReplyDeleteHope you get through this!
Kelly
Thanks CG
ReplyDeleteBased on the “love pats” my husband keeps dishing out, he knows I am feeling bratty. He also knows that this is a time of year I normally withdraw. This must be his way of motivating me. He is staying on top of those negative behaviors so they don’t drag me down. I hope it works. I will survive, I’m sure. What I’m not sure about is how sore my bottom will be by July 5th when my attitude normally starts to improve again.
(I still feel the last love pat he dished out before he left for work this morning.)