Saturday, September 23, 2017

ttwd freedom

I've spent quite a bit of time reflecting on Wednesday night.  Eric and I were finally back together, with ten days of normal ahead of us.  We each had expectations about how the reunion would go but then, the doorbell rang. (If you missed my last post, pop back here so you can catch up before moving forward.) The highly anticipated romantic evening became a full blown disciplinary session and somebody got sent to bed early. (Yes, me.  It wasn't him! LOL)

Pre-ttwd:  Eric would have heard the same story from our neighbor and would have had the same reaction, emotionally.  However, he would have had no place to put those feelings other than in a wad at the base of his gut.  He is not a yeller so it's not like he would have screamed at me.  He might have said some unkind words like, "How could you be so stupid?!" and then he would have walked out to calm down and get over it.  He'd stop talking to me for a few days and would ignore my pleas, texts, calls, etc.

Pre-ttwd: I would have been crushed that Eric called me stupid and then when he left, quit talking, and shut down, I would be devastated until the one, two, or three days passed and we finally spoke about it. I would feel terribly guilty for drinking while on my medication, would convince myself Eric was going to leave me or didn't love me anymore, and I'd be a basket case.

ttwd freedom: When emotions run high, people need to take action.  Eric took the emotions he would have bottled up in the past and very calmly let them go while dishing out a spanking, corner time, and early bedtime.  He made his point, got a physical release, and was able to end the "conversation" with a show of his love and affection for me.

I, on the other hand, got called on the carpet for not taking care of myself.  The actual spanking was NOT enjoyable but I got the point and even more so, understood where Eric was coming from. The aftermath was incredible.  Yes, lesson learned, but beyond that, I had no lingering guilt, never felt unloved or like I was stupid.  Instead, I realized very quickly that I made a mistake, I paid for it, I was worth taking the time to set straight, and I am loved. Then it was over. A thing of our past. Something that neither of us was holding onto anymore.

Some couples use domestic discipline as a way to control what one or the other partner does or doesn't do but for us, ttwd is not about control.  It's about freedom. Freedom to express our feelings. Freedom to let go of some emotions. Freedom to make mistakes and work through them quickly and efficiently.  It's an amazing feeling, being so close and having such freedom tying us together.


Thursday, September 21, 2017

"I'm going to spank you when I need to"

Eric came home and we hugged, kissed, laughed, talked, snuggled, giggled, pinched, poked, played, and flat out celebrated being back together after far too long. For ten whole days, we will have each other home, in a somewhat normal routine, smack dab in the middle of the busiest travel season of the year. It's a miracle.

Everything was fantastic and then the doorbell rang.

"Hi. You must be Eric," I heard our new neighbor's voice in the entryway. "I'm Veronica."

I came around the corner as Eric extended his hand in greeting.

"I hear you and Amy had a nice dinner last night," he said, one of the many stories I'd shared with him about my time while he was away.

The three of us chatted for a few minutes and then Veronica said, "I hate to interrupt the reunion but I wanted to give Amy her license back. I guess we mixed them up at the bar before dinner."

She turned toward me and said, "Please tell me you have mine."

I looked in my purse and sure enough, I had Veronica's license.  We both laughed.

"I still can't believe we got carded!" I exclaimed.

I walked Veronica down the path, thanking her for coming over, and then skipped back into the house ready to get back to the love fest. Eric was in the kitchen.

"Isn't she nice?!" I said happily.  "Finally someone on the block I can hang out with when you're gone all the time."

I bounced over to Eric and kissed his lips.  He was standing with his hands in his pockets and didn't move a muscle. Instead, he waited until I pulled away.

"Were you drinking last night?" he asked.

"I had a beer," I answered nonchalantly.

Eric's eyes narrowed and he took in a long slow breath.

"Amy, go get my belt."

His voice was stern and unwavering.

I stammered.

"Huh? What?"

"You heard me. Go upstairs and get my belt. And if you feel the need to argue, get Sir Strap while you're at it."

My heart rate drastically increased. My face went flush and I realized there was nothing about Eric's demeanor that suggested this was going to be either enjoyable or negotiable. Eric has never dictated what I could or could not do, what I could or could not drink.  This was new and completely unexpected, especially on his first night back.

I went to our room and pulled Eric's thick black leather weave belt from it's hook and walked down to the living room. Although we have technically been practicing ttwd for a couple of years, trust me when I say there have been very few disciplinary spankings with much more resets and erotic play. Clearly, this was not for play.

Eric took the belt from my hand and gestured toward the piano bench, which had been pulled out in the middle of the room.  There was a prescription bottle of pain pills in the center of the bench. Again, a hot flash spread like wildfire across my face as Eric bent me over, laying my hands flat at either side of the bottle.

"Read the label to me," he said sternly, doubling the belt over and folding it in half.

I picked up the bottle and read, "Do not drink alcoholic beverages when taking this medication."

Eric let my words sync in for a moment and then the belt flew through the air and landed squarely on my right cheek.

"Have you been taking your medicine, Amy?"

The question wasn't really a question because we both know perfectly well, I'm surviving on this stuff right now.

"Yes," I whispered, barely audible.

SMACK. The belt landed hard on the same spot for a second time.

"Yes, what?" Eric demanded.

I was still catching my breath, wanting to reach back and grab my throbbing cheek.  Eric was not acting in anger. He was controlled and calculating, but using far more force than ever before.

"Yes Sir," I squeaked and strike three erupted right across the middle of my seat.

"Read it again," Eric commanded and I did, again and again and again. The leather creased my jeans after each reading until I couldn't stand it any longer.

"I'm sorry," I yelled out, reaching back and squeezing the right side, which seemed to be getting the bulk of the whipping.

Eric put down the belt and sat in front of me. He undid my buckle, button, and zipper; pulling the protective denim and panties to just below my knees.

"Please," I begged rubbing the red welts on my aching bottom.  "No more, Eric.  I'm sorry.  I really am."

Without a word, Eric folded me across his knee and pinning my fingers to my lower back, began an intense hand spanking that had me yelping by the fourth strike.

"Do you have any idea what I would do if I lost you?!" he asked, spanking me harder and harder with each of his words.

Spank, spank, spank.

"I can't imagine my life without you and you know it's dangerous to mix drugs and alcohol."

Spank, spank, spank.

"It's right there on the damn label!"

Eric picked up the bottle of pills and threw it across the room.  It hit the wall, broke open, and pain pills spilled out all over the floor. Then the spanking continued.

Smack, smack, smack.

My ass was on fire and I was locked in position, unable to get out from under Eric's grasp. There was immense pain but truthfully, it was his words that had tears streaming down my face.

"I'm so sorry," I cried out, realizing the tighter Eric held me and the more diligently he spanked, how much I had truly scared him by carelessly drinking while taking those pills.  After everything we'd been through this summer, after everything we'd experienced with my kid, apparently I was the one who had learned nothing.

By the time Eric finished, I was sobbing and my body was shaking and weak.  He held me close to his chest and kissed my face, making me promise over and over that I would never exhibit such risky behavior again.  Then he took me to the corner by the front window and made me stand there, nose to the wall, about twenty minutes until dusk set in and the room darkened.

"It's not even eight o'clock, but you're going to bed," Eric said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and kissing the salty tear stains away from my eyelids.  He held my face in his hands and repeated his words.  "You're going to bed right now, Amy Lynn, and you may not say another word until morning."

I started to sniffle, another wave of tears ready to flow down my cheeks, but Eric shook his head and pushed my body toward the stairs. In our room, I glanced at an array of red welted streaks in the mirror before tossing my clothes in the hamper and crawling into bed.  Crying silently, I waited until Eric joined me and then slowly, I melted into his arms.

"I love you, Amy Lynn," Eric said sweetly, placing two fingers on my lips as a reminder that I was forbidden to speak for the rest of the night. He spooned my body and held on tight.  "and because of that, I am going to spank you when I need to."


Monday, September 18, 2017

Thirty four hours and sixteen minutes

I'm singin'

And prancin'

There's dancin'

Gettin' to



Eric will be home in

34 hours and 16 minutes 





10 days of heavenly bliss.

Woo hoo!!!