Happy Easter everyone

Wishing everyone a very happy Easter

I hope you all get plenty of....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and maybe even some of this (the nice ones, of course)

 

 

 

 

 

but not much of this...

 

 or this...

 

 

 

 

or that...

 

Tears before bedtime

Tantrums; I hate them. Especially when it's me having one!     I hate having a bad attitude no matter the reason. They make me feel distant and disconnected from Sir. I hate starting the day with tantrums and slamming doors and not saying goodbye properly and nicely. But despite hating it, it sill happens. Despite not wanting it to happen I still slip up. Despite all this time struggling and practising DD I still let old habits take over me every now and then. I hate it even more when Sir lets me get away with this kind of behaviour because it just spirals and I feel out of control; disconnected; "let go of" as if he doesn't "have me".         I need him to stop me in my tracks. A dead stop! Whether it’s a "telling off" or a spanking or some other form of punishment. Stop me! Even if the consequences (whatever they are) are not immediate, tell me to expect it later in the week when there is time to address the issue properly! Sir, bring me back into your control where I feel safe and warm. I was so rude and hateful to you this morning, I should never EVER have spoken to you like that, but I did, nor slammed the door on my way out but I did and certainly I should not have not said goodbye to you, but I did. It was rude and very childish behaviour. I was annoyed and "put out" and that was unreasonable. I am so sorry. I will try hard not to let it happen again. I deserve to be punished, please punish me Sir. Will there be tears before bedtime? I don't want to endure it. I hate to admit it, but I hope so: I need it, deserve it.

The difference in spanking positions...like chalk and cheese

I got spanked three times in one day, on Thursday last week. I mean for goodness sake...how hard is it to just behave...obviously for me its extremely difficult.     Anyway, the first time was because I left a wet towel on the bed. I was positioned laying on the bed and he used the flogger and the rug beater and a blind fold. The blind fold did actually help because I couldn't see what was coming...still the rug beater hurts like hell and had me squirming and moving around a lot and crying, until finally he stopped. And when I say finally it makes it sounds like it used it for ages...he didn't...only a few swipes with it. But those few swipes felt like an age.     The second time was because I was sarcastic and had a bad attitude towards Sir and he had to tell me over three times to knock it off, the next thing I know I'm bent over the kitchen bench, his hand on my back and my backside being spanked hard with a wooden spoon. This was really quick and about half a dozen swipes. After ward I went straight to his arms and apologised - funny how that happens isn't it.                 The third time was because I was stressing about an issue and he decided just because he can he would and he wanted to experiment with implements and positions. I was told to go and get the rub beater and then he sat back on the sofa, got himself comfortable and told me to get across his knee. This I did. His hand FIRMLY on my back, my pants down around my knees, bare bottom his target and whack whack whack he whacked away for quite a long time, in different places, left cheek, right cheek, across the middle, thighs, the sit spot, quick succession of swats and then slow swats - with the rug beater. I couldn't really move. And it hurt. One very red bottom 20 minutes later I have come to the conclusion there is very definitely a difference in the pain of a spanking depending on the position one is held in. The position over his knee was easier to take - not that it was that easy in the first place but I don't think his swing was a forceful as if he were standing above me when I'm laid on the bed or across the bed. Has anyone else ever noticed this? Don't get me wrong, it hurt but it didn't make me cry as it would have done if I were laying across the bed. And this didn't take away from the punishment either (actually it was good not to cry for a change) I just think he couldn't put in such a forceful swipe while I'm across his knee as he can if he was stood up behind me. I would always take an over the knee spanking (with or without implements) any day - not because of the difference in pain, but because of the intimacy of it. I just prefer it. Sir doesn't because it hurts his hand ... kiwi pauses here to wait for the cries of awwww in sympathy for Sir.....but he does like the rug beater...its light and small and very easy to use over the knee he said. He also told me to expect more over the knee spankings from now on. Best I learn to be on my best behaviour! I can try!  Talk about Mission Impossible.

Control issues and the rug beater

Sounds a little bit like an American TV drama series, doesnt it? (Like The Scarecrow and Mrs. King or Starskey and Hutch) LOL. I wish. I am not handling nightshift as well as I thought I would. Sir and I are working at it but it’s causing some issues and not where you might expect it. We had a good discussion about it last night in the shed. My bottom bore the brunt of the discussion and finally I think we made some headway. The main issue is control. Yes, Sir is in control, he is HOH, he is SIR to be loved and respected; to be honoured; to be obeyed. But during the week, when it’s just me well, it’s different. It feels different. I may follow the rules; I’m in bed by 10.30pm. I’m doing my exercise (for the most part and it may very well be like pulling teeth for Sir to get me to do them, but I do, do them eventually) I’m not arguing and fussing with Little Miss (well, not usually). Anything I do that breaks a rule I write down or I tell him and write it down. It’s more emotional. It’s more about the space my head and attitude are in. When it’s just me and the kids, basically I feel I’m in charge. I wear the boss hat. And basically although I follow Sir’s rules, I still feel in charge and the boss. And its really hard to re-adjust on a weekend when sir his home. Before nightshift, when Sir is around, he is without a doubt in charge and in control. There was no question. And if I did question, then woe betide me, the consequences were then and there. When he started nightshift our dynamic changed. Not overnight, but we agreed on Sunday night that yes over the time he has been working nightshift, it has changed or at least my perception of it has changed. He feels very much still in charge - and phycially he is...its my attitude my heart my I am finding it very hard to give back the control on a weekend when he is home. We have spent more time fighting and arguing over the last couple of weekends and this last weekend was the worst. My attitude was awful. I was argumentative. I was sullen. I was cruel with the words used. I threatened to leave him. I was disrespectful and disobedient. There were tears and raised voices (on my part). Sir took it in his stride, until we reached the shed last night. He had rearranged things as to my position. He had me bend across a wide bench so that I could read from my book while in position. He made me read it over and over again out loud to him. He started with the flogger. He made me repeat three sentences over and over again: “Sir is my boss” “I must obey Sir” “I must stay within my boundaries”. Over and over again I had to repeat these words. He used the flogger and the paddle, the studded strap and the rug beater. At one stage with the studded strap he drew blood - just little spots where the studs break the skin. I struggled big time with that, that horrible spanking panic feeling. So he stopped using it. Thankfully. Funnily enough when he first used the strap I had my face down and I didn’t see it, it hurt but I didn’t have that panic feeling. It was only when I saw what he was going to use that I “panicked”… perhaps a blindfold next week might help so that I can’t see what is coming. He often tells me not to look at him, to keep my face down as he is spanking me. Something to think about. Every few swipes I had to say thank you. And then repeat what I had done wrong and then repeat the three sentence mantra. He gave me a couple of breaks in between and then it was back to it. He agreed with me that I am struggling to hand over control to him on a weekend but he also said that I had better hurry up and learn because in the meantime he would show me no leniency towards my attitude. I had better get it in check or else … more of last night. Finally, it was over. He left me in position to pull myself together and to think about things. And then he took me in his arms, and I mumbled my apologies into his chest. He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. He led me back to the house and up to bed where he tucked me in for sleep. And oh boy did I sleep well. I'm currently feeling quite meek and humble and submissive. I hope I can make it last. He promised me that if I am a good girl all week then next Sunday we will only use the flogger. But if I misbehave in anyway shape or form, actions or attitude – then the rug beater will come out to play too.   I think its just a matter of him getting and me letting him into my head again.        And I guess there is one sure fire way of doing that...and that's plenty of this.... or maybe lots more of this..................

Uh Oh, bad, BAD Kiwi

I am such a bad submissive wife. I am surprised my husband just doesn’t beat me every day regardless of what I have or have not done and just have done with it. I try so hard to obey the rules and be respectful. But sometimes the devil gets in me. Monday I failed to do my work out. I didn’t mention it because basically it doesn’t mean the same to me if I have to remind him to TELL me to do it. If I have to remind him to TELL me then I may as well just do it, right?       Anyway, he noticed. He told me I had to do it and so I DID do it. (Can you see my halo, even though its slightly crooked). This was a good start to a Tuesday night…which rapidly went down hill from there. I got myself ready to work out and he got himself ready to go to work and his parting words were to remind me to close the gate at the top of the driveway (he can be very anal a little obsessive about closing that darned gate). “Yes, yes” I told him dismissively distractedly trying to get on with my work out so that I get then get on with other things…dinner, vacuuming, dishes, lunches, showers, homework, WINE, you know the usual mum stuff. OK, so, work out done, dripping sweat and bloody knackered, I put the dinner on to start cooking, run upstairs to vacuum of the feathers of a dead bird, courtesy of my little kitty cat, turn on the shower for me and get changed. The phone rings half way through the vacuuming – Sir - mad as a bear chewing a hornet. He had been trying to ring my cell phone, which of course was downstairs on the counter – not being ignored but just not being heard. Anyway, he needed something that I had difficulty in getting for him, something technical – which I’m not. So he got frustrated and mad at me, I got frustrated because I was still hot and sweaty, trying to do a million things and so I hung up on him. OOOPS! I managed to get what he wanted, rang him back and gave him the info. End of a very short conversation. Finally, shower is done, dinner cooked, dishes done and I’m sitting down. I start to feel really guilty and submissive and so I ring and apologise to him for hanging up. All is well. He apologised for yelling at me. So I then carry on with my evening…and bedtime rolls around. This is where it gets bad (if earlier hadn’t been bad enough) I ring him to say goodnight as per normal at 10.30pm (this is just TOO early). He asks me if I closed the gate. O.M.G!!! I had clean forgotten. It’s late at night, pitch black. The driveway is very long hilly and so I refused to go up and close it in the dark. He lectured me for the longest time on the telephone last night and promised me a major spanking for it, if not in the morning when he gets home but certainly Sunday so I'd better make sure it’s put in the book.      The spanking didn’t happen this morning, nor was a word spoken about it, but its in the book. He did remind me this afternoon when I got home from work and I was marched up the stairs to "discuss" the gate incident. I was told off quite severely and spanked, but not as hard as I was expecting, afterwards he said that that was just an appetiser of what is to come on Sunday for me........don't get me wrong here, this post might be a little on the light and funny side, bit honestly, I took him very seriously.     Oh, and guess what just arrived in the mail this morning….. talk about irony! He will probably tell me it’s poetic justice!  And I have a feeling that this thing is not going to feel quite as the cat-o-nine tails does!  Honestly?  Ill be closing the gate from now on...and that's even  before my punishment at the weekend.

Flogging

Flogging is to hit a person very hard using something such as a whip, strap, or stick. Flogging also means beating, whipping, battering, spanking, hiding. I am intrigued with the word flogging. I like the sound of it. I like how it feels when I say the word (not out loud because we all know how I struggle to say such words out loud, but in my head) I like the look of the word. I like the meaning of it. I like the synonyms of flogging. (But then, I am a spanko after all) It conjures up images of strict discipline and punishment. Of a disobedient wife (me) being punished with it. When I see pictures of a flogger, the long leather lashes, the handle, I imagine the smell of the leather, I imagine my disciplinarian holding it in his hand, the handle in one hand and the leather thongs being stroked with his other hand as I stand in front of him, head down, eyes down, listening to his lecture about my bad behaviour that has brought me to stand before him. I can almost feel the butterflies in my stomach as I watch the flogger, through lowered eye lashes, and wonder what it would feel like on my bear skin. I imagine being bent over the bed, my skirt lifted and bear behind exposed. I imagine hearing the “swoosh” as the tails fly through the air and I imagine the thud as it lands on my behind. Then the sting as it is flicked swiftly from left to right and the warm sensation on my skin as it burns hotter and hotter the longer it is used on me and then alternating between heavy thuds across my thighs and then the swift hard biting flick left right left right. I imagine the thud of the knotted ends as they land on my flesh, welts rising, the flesh softly bruising as the punishment continues. I imagine how he tells me to kneel on the bed and raise my bottom higher so he has a better target. Just when I think it is over, I imagine it starting again, thud, flick, thud, flick, flick thud. Like a quick step dance, slow, slow quick quick slow. I imagine finally succumbing to the pain and remorse, tears falling from my eyes as he punishes me with soft leather that is as sharp as teeth biting and punishing my flesh until it’s over. His hand soft and gentle on my bottom rubbing gently, taking away the burn.    It can also conjure up images of the obedient wife (me, on a good day) being laid down on a bed, feeling the tails of the flogger ticked across my skin, the goose bumps raising and its flicked gently across my buttocks, my thighs, my back and shoulders. I imagine how my legs are spread and the tails lightly tickle between my thighs, I imagine the tension draining from my shoulders and my hips rising up to meet the tails as they land on their mark. My breathing becoming heavier and heavier as I get wetter and wetter as the flogger flicks across the skin. I imagine being rolled over and the leather being dragged across my stomach and my breasts, my nipples hardening, the warmth spreading through my behind. Little light flicks of the tails across my torso and my breasts…not being able to catch my breath as I’m rolled over again and pulled up to my knees and the tails wrapped around my neck and used as a collar to hold on to me as he enters me hard and fast making me beg and moan and gasp and lose all sense of reality. I imagine laying there, spent, wrapped in his arms, the flogger draped across my skin, the leather a reminder of how it can make me beg for release, and   also a warning of how it can make me beg for mercy too. I need "imagine" no more. My reality over the weekend was so much better than my fantasy.