Sunday, August 23, 2015

Running Away from Home

I drove for seven hours.

I ran at least ten miles.

I got my hair colored.

I had a massage.

I slept alone.

I drove back home - seven hours.

Nothing has changed.

(Except the hair color.)

I miss Eric.

I miss the career I loved.

I miss the kid who moves in three days.

I miss peace and contentment.

I miss happy Amy.

Hell, I miss fellow bloggers who used to leave me comments!  Where'd y'all go?

Dog Piled into an Unwanted Spanking

Have you ever had the world suddenly dog pile a million emotionally charged items on your plate?  I suffered through and barely finished an accelerated class over the summer.  I got a two week break, during which time my oldest child decided to move 400 miles away (great for the kid, proud but weepy mama) and my boss literally turned on a "nitpicking faucet" which quickly turned a career I love into a job I dread.  Eric is traveling more than ever and I start school again in less than 48 hours.

Friday, I was supposed to meet with my boss to iron out a project that isn't going well.  I prepared for a solid week so I would have every bit of information he'd require.  I also pulled data for the year (more than doubling the sales goal he had set) in order to show him the progress my department has been making.  He changed the meeting time.  It almost tanked me.  I met Eric in the driveway just as he has about to leave for the airport.

"Hey pretty girl," he said when I jumped in his car.  He leaned over and gave me a kiss.  My eyes suddenly welled up with tears and I bit my lip, staring forward out the window.

"Don't do that," he said sternly.  "Amy.  Look at me."

I shook my head, fighting to hold back actual tears.

"You can't do this now," he said matter-of-factly.  "If you go in to take a stand and start to cry, you'll lose all credibility."

I nodded but refused to look in his direction.  I know this, but when I'm passionate about something, I tear up.  It's not planned.  It's not even welcomed.  It's what happens.

Eric sighed.  He checked his watch.

"Hey," he softly touched my knee.  "I know it's not fair but that's the way business works."

I turned to look at his bright blue eyes and warm face; my lower lip began to quiver.

"Get in the house!" he snapped, pushing the door open and then slamming it behind him.

I didn't know what had just happened.  He grabbed my arm as soon as I exited the car and pulled me toward the garage.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked, feet fumbling along to keep up with him.

"You know darn well what I'm doing," he snapped again, shutting the door and steering me into the kitchen.

"Take your position," he said pointing to the counter and unbuckling his belt.

I was shocked.  I didn't do anything wrong.   If anything, I was being overly productive and the world was treating me badly.

Eric's cheeks were flushed with frustration, his belt dangling in his hand; when he looked up and saw me falling apart before his very eyes.

"I don't want a spanking," I whispered.  His face softened.

"I know you don't sweetheart," he said gently.  "But you really need one."

Eric bent me over the counter and I heard his belt in the air just before it landed solidly on my right cheek.  I squeezed my hands together and placed my forehead on my thumbs while breathing through the pain.  He was relentless.  He's always been loving and gentle but this time, he wasn't going to stop until I was bawling. The belt flew and flew.  My ass burned and stung, each strike searing the prior one in place.  Suddenly, I broke down and was sobbing.  Eric pulled me into his arms and let me soak his shoulder with tears.

"We're not quite done," he said, leading me over to the horrid corner in the living room.  "I have to go but I want you to stand here for ten minutes and get your game face on.  When you go back to work, you had better be strong and you had better advocate for yourself or so help me, when I get home on Monday..."

Eric kissed each eye and then turned me toward the corner.

"Game face!" he said and was gone.

I allowed myself to cry in that spot until there wasn't a single drop left.  Then I cleaned up and went to work to face the demon.

The boss didn't care what I had to say, nor was he impressed with my sales. But I didn't lose my cool and I didn't tear up or cry or get even the littlest bit weepy.

Eric is gone the whole weekend.  I think I'm going to hit the road and take a long ride in the car.... assuming I can handle sitting across the miles!

Monday, August 17, 2015


There is one more week before I return to school full-time so I've hit a 5 mile wilderness trail three days in a row to try to get back on track with exercising.  Eric loves that I run; knows the release I get and appreciates the fact that I do my best to stay healthy.  He fully supports all of my goals but, once again, there is the caveat that I do things safely.  Today, my trail run caught me unprepared as it was over 100 degrees and I didn't bother taking any water with me.  By the time I finished, I was quite dehydrated and I could tell by Eric's tone, he was shaking his head and not thrilled with my lack of planning.  So.... I figured after dinner, we'd be having a chat.

I decided to BBQ; something I just recently discovered we both enjoy.  I lit the grill and worked on seasoning the steaks while Eric sat at the table.  He was pretty quiet, watching me closely, but deep in thought rather than being talkative.

"Everything okay?"  I asked.

He shook his head, no.

"Are you upset with me?" I asked.

Again, he shook his head.  This time, yes.

I let out a heavy sigh.  "I know, I know," I stated, throwing my hands in the air and rolling my eyes a bit.  I went to the junk drawer and grabbed a wooden spoon.

"Here," I said handing it to him.  "Let's get this over with so we can have a good dinner."

Eric rarely looks angry.  He is even keeled and handles most things in stride but this time, a flash of color crossed his face and he yanked the spoon from my hand and tossed it in the sink.

"Forget the BBQ," he said.  "You don't make the decisions around here and tonight, that includes dinner."

He went upstairs and left me, shocked and alone in the kitchen.  The steaks sat, uncooked on a cutting board and the house was terribly silent.  After a few minutes, I wrapped the meat in cellophane, put it in the fridge and sat in the same seat Eric had just vacated.  Time stood still.

Eric eventually came back downstairs.  He had an old tie in his hand.  He wasn't yelling but he was talking louder than usual and it was clear, my voice had no place in this conversation.

"YOU are NOT in charge of this THING we are trying to DO."

I ventured a swallow but otherwise remained perfectly still.

"YOU will NOT be telling me what, when or how I will deal with you," his voice quieted down a bit and he stood behind me, placing his hands firmly on my shoulders.

"Instead," his voice grew gentler, calmer, "you will learn to trust the decisions I make."

With that, he took the tie and blindfolded me tight enough to where I couldn't peek even if I dared.  He led me throughout the house, taking twists and turns that made it impossible for me to know where we were. Slowly, he undid the zipper on my denim shorts.  I reached out for him, but he pushed my hands away and told me not to move.  He slid my shorts down my legs and tapped each foot so I would step out of them. Then he removed my panties in the same fashion.  He walked me a few paces and placed my hands flat on the wall in front of me.

"You're in the corner," he explained, squeezing my wrists a bit before letting them go.  "Don't move from this spot, young lady.  I'll be watching you while I finish dinner."

I stood, completely out of my element, a captive in my own home without any sight to help me decipher where he was, what he was thinking, when he would strike or how he would do it.  My heart raced like I was back on that trail and I listened as he clinked glasses, opened cupboards and closed drawers.

"I thought about punishing you for that careless run," he began as though we were sitting across from each other at a picnic in the park, "but then it occurred to me, what you really lack is the confidence in my being able to take care of you."

He continued on for what seemed like an eternity but the two times I tried to respond, that original wooden spoon found my ass and I learned to shut up quickly.

Eric's hands were in my hair, pulling my head back so his lips were right against my ear.

"I love you more than anything in this world," he said, his voice unwavering. "I will take charge of this family and you will learn the decisions I make are in the best interest of all of us."

I was led to a chair, where I sat, bare bottomed and was fed dinner without words.  Everything was delicious, nourishing and nutritious but still, with each bite, there was a bit of hesitation on my part.

Eric slapped my inner thigh.  I didn't see it coming, didn't hear it and didn't expect it either.  I yelped and he immediately rubbed the sting away.

"Let's try this again," he said and I was given another bite of really wonderful food.  Throughout dinner, drinks and even dessert, Eric kept repeating, "You have to trust me."

I hesitated three times in all, and my inner thigh payed the price each time.  With dinner out of the way, I received the anticipated lecture about making healthy choices and planning ahead, my value to our family and the required end of all risky behavior. The blindfold remained in place.

When the lecture was finally over, Eric led me upstairs and told me it was time I learned this lesson once and for all.  He put my hands on his waist and instructed me to remove his belt.  When I had it through all of the loops, he ordered me to fold it in half and hand it to him.  I heard the clink of the buckle and then he snapped the leather together and I jolted at the harsh sound it made.  My tears began to stain the tie that still held tightly over my eyes.

"I'm so sorry Eric ..." I began but before I could finish the sentence, Eric snapped the belt again and I jumped, my lip pressed deep between my teeth.  He turned me counter clockwise and I could feel the edge of the bed at my hips.  He took my shirt and gracefully pulled it over my head.  He undid my bra and I stood, completely exposed and blindfolded at our mattress.

"Let me be clear," he stated firmly, both hands holding my arms and directing me to bend over the bed.  "I am the one who decides how to handle situations with you."

I was sniffling and frightened under that blindfold and I braced myself, ready for the blazing sting of the leather on my cheeks.  I tensed.  I tightened.  I squeezed.  Time ticked by and then, exhausted, I finally gave in and let my body relax.

"There you go," Eric said, gently stroking my hair.  Somehow, he grabbed me in such a way I was suddenly up on the bed, flat on my back with his fingers interlocked in mine.  His warm sweet mouth was kissing my lips and when I let go of my fear, our tongues danced in unison.  Eric kept hold of one hand and placed the other behind my neck, lifting me to his face in a display of passionate kisses that rivaled our dating years. Then, the blindfold came off and I was eye-to-eye with the man I love.

"Just trust me," he said.  "I'll do the right thing."

Friday, August 14, 2015

What do you think about DD Boot Camp or Maintenance Spankings?

Hi All,

I'm trying to let go and let Eric take the lead.

Yesterdays spanking was the most "freeing" and probably the first time I truly let myself be guided by what was in his mind rather than trying to have him do it "my way".  Not easy.  My way is what I am used to and though I want things to be different, it's hard to trust and let go.

The conversation I'd like to have with him is.... would a boot camp or maintenance type of thing be a better way to get us used to having him take on a stronger role in this?  We honestly NEVER considered either because this lifestyle to us was more of a support role for the things I was trying to achieve in my life.  Kind of a reset for when I get overwhelmed.  However, as we progress, it's the incredible intimacy we both feel when he can take me in hand that is growing the love between us and it is the letting go of the stress of having to do everything myself that is providing the greatest relief.

How did you let go?  How did he take that lead?  And boot camp?  Maintenance?  Yes?  No?



DD? Learning to Let Go; The Hard Way

Eric was home two days and never mentioned my night in the park or his text.  I wasn't going to bring it up! Instead, we languished in each others arms for hours, lips locked and bodies intertwined.  Distance is a killer when we are apart but it is heavenly when we come back together.

Day three.

A text received at work.

"Straight home Amy.  Boots on and in the corner."

It was very hard to concentrate the rest of the afternoon.  Anticipation is a big part of this relationship and I think, were the situation different, Eric and I would deal with things in a more immediate fashion (good, bad or otherwise) but with him on the road a lot, three kids at home and me in school it's hard to find time.  Three days after an offense, the butterflies, a cross between excitement and nausea, took flight and I was tempted to call and ask, "Why?  What are you going to do?  Shouldn't we talk about this?!"

If you look back, I seem to be getting the same advice from everyone.  "Let go.  Let him lead."  It's what I want.  It's what I signed up for.  It seems very simple but the internal battles rage on and on.  I cried out for attention (bratted but got none.  Now, it was coming but I felt good and like it wasn't necessary.  A deep breath in and I refrained from getting involved.  Instead, I promised myself to let him take us through.

At 5:20 pm, I stood, nose to the corner, wearing my cowgirl boots and a silk tasseled shirt without any bottoms.  Initially, my mind was racing about a million things Eric could do, might do, would do; but after awhile, I settled into a more calm state (after running the list of my to-do's with my first kid leaving home next week and the rest of us back in school within days - got a B in that math class btw!!) and began thinking about why we started down this ttwd/dd road to begin with.  Single for ten years, I've had the weight of the world on my shoulders and I'm good with it but when Eric came into our lives I was ready to let someone in. Dating was fun but when we fell seriously in love, it became a rocky balance of what used to be and what could be.  Middle ground is an illusive balance we seem to be in constant search of.  This lifestyle was something we thought would help, but it's not easy letting go and trusting yourself in the hands of another.

The garage door sounded and my stomach jolted.  Eric's footsteps on the stairs about had my knees knocking and I pressed into the wall in search of additional support.

"Don't turn around," he stated, his voice steady and stern.  I swallowed and bit my lip.  I think he sat opposite of me but my eyes were squeezed shut so I wouldn't even venture a look.

"Amy, I've had enough of your risky behavior."  His lecture was one I had needed for an eternity.  "You are not a child but you go back and forth between being the most independent woman in the world to acting like a teenager without a bit of common sense in you.  You can't be in a park, by yourself, in the middle of the night!  How would the kids or I have felt if we'd gotten a call from the police that something had happened to you?  What would any of us do without you in our lives?!"

The last two sentences caught me by surprise.  I hadn't ever considered, it never ever crosses my mind that something could ever happen to me.  I take care of the four of the them and  then just do my thing; whether it be a class or a trip to the park.  Suddenly, this round of consequences felt less like a fun adventure and more like a shot of reality.  This wasn't about a sweet emotional reset or a sexual spanking.  Eric had been genuinely worried and my face went hot with that blaze of realization.

"Come HERE!"

I jumped.  In my flush of understanding, my mind drifted from his words and I guess I missed the first suggestion that I turn and face my consequences.  Eric was seated on a black straight backed chair in the center of our room and his lips were closed tightly in a straight line.  I stumbled over to him and started to apologize, shocked that a sea of tears suddenly welled up in my eyes and a bolt of remorse shot through me.

"Uh uh," he said shaking his head.  "You don't get to talk yet."

Eric took my hand and laid me across his lap.  I'd never been in this position before and a droplet of water ran down my nose and fell to the carpet.  I was already shaking.

"If you insist on acting like a child, I'm going to have to treat you as one." Eric's voice was stern and unwavering and his hand slapped down on my cheek as he spoke.  The more he spoke about how much he loved me and how much he worried when I ran off without thinking about how dangerous a situation might be, the harder he slapped and the sadder I got.  By the time my behind was surely red, I was truly crying and just wanting to be held when out of the blue, a shot of a thousand bees stung my left side.  I jumped up and tried to scramble to my feet but Eric pulled me right back over his knee, locked my legs in place and pulled my belly in tight to his lap.

"Oh no you don't!" he stated and the bees rang down again and again on my backside.  I couldn't imagine what he was using but every swat made me cry out and the pain reignited with each blow, building on and combining with the prior smack.  My head spun.  My body broke out in waves of heat and Eric did not stop even to take a breath until he felt he had made his point.  I'd never felt anything like it.  My ass was on fire, my face was tear stained and every single part of me that ever felt unvalued just washed away.  It couldn't have been more than five minutes and I was sobbing in his arms; wrapped in an embrace that could have carried me to the moon.

I feel different now.  I feel solid.  Safe.  Secure.  And happy.  More than anything, I just feel happy.

(Oh... and the bees?  Actually, a flat wooden spoon with holes in it.  Damn that thing hurts!!)

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Uh oh.... Somebody is not too happy with his Cowgirl

Friday night - Eric out of town again.  He doesn't expect me to stay home, but he doesn't expect "risky behavior" either.

The girls and I went to a country bar about an hour from town.  We dressed the part, had a designated driver and agreed to stay together.  It was fun - dancing the night away, downing Moscow Mules and just being silly.

At the beginning of the night (one drink in), I left Eric a very sweet message about how much I wished he could be there too.  Mid-evening, the second message (third drink), came out more like a slurred sex starved slut begging him to hurry home and blah, blah, blah (no need to repeat that unchecked rash of verbal porn). Finally, at 3 am, he received a five drinks down love fest.

"Eric!  We have the best life.  This is the most beautiful world.  I love you so much.  It's 3 o'clock in the morning and it was so nice outside I walked out to look at the stars and next thing you know, I went down the street to the park where I kicked off my boots and ran my toes through the sand. Then I was swinging in the moonlight, singing our song and just thinking about how much I love you.  I miss you!!!  Come swing with me!!"

Eric responded only to the third message.

A 4:30 am text that simply read, "I'm going to spank you."


Sobered up.

The text still reads the same way.

"I'm going to spank you."


Friday, August 7, 2015

Crying Out for Attention

I'm back!  I've got my computer in hand and that horrid class is finally done.  I find out Monday or Tuesday if I passed but based on the final, I am pretty sure I did.

I love Eric.  He was a complete support person the whole six weeks and I know I was a nightmare to be around.  He's so even-keeled and solid.  It's amazing.  And more impressive, he's fun.  He's not some stick-in-the-mud who doesn't ever want to do anything.  As a matter of fact, he'll try just about anything!  And he's a blast.  So why am I crying out for attention all of the time?

I feel like a child.  I get so wound up in my head my thoughts travel in circles and I can't focus long enough to just relax and take care of things one moment at a time.  Work, kids, school... so much.  I studied more for this class than any other class I've taken in the last twelve months and it's the most basic.  Completely overwhelming.  Eric was trapped at work, again, and I just lost it.  I left him 1000 messages.  I text him a million times.  Then, I borrowed a friends computer, opened a second email "amy51eric49" (do you see how bratty and obnoxious that is?!) and deliberately disobeyed him by commenting on his post.

"Amy51Eric49 has left a new comment on your post "Eric's Thoughts With Amy down to just two weeks l...": 

Hi Eric, Great job on the blog! I know your wife usually handles the story-telling but you’ve written a very entertaining and accurate description of your own experience while doing justice to her; pretty much. It’s clear that you love her to pieces and I’m sure she loves you to the moon and back but sometimes it’s hard for a girl to have a head full of responsibilities, goals and emotions bottled up inside when circumstances require her to display a sense of patience that she truly does not possess. This is especially true when she’s used to multi-tasking under her own guise and suddenly has to knuckle down and focus on one thing for an extended period of time (the fear being a letting down of everyone and everything around her). Such pressure can build like an emotional volcano, but if there is no way to release those feelings, she may in turn, poke the bear or question your intentions. She might become bitchy, or bratty or even a bit combative (like throwing your car keys out the window). You can subscribe to her insecurities and feel a loss of control or you can take her in hand. Know that with the intense love you share between you, the latter option will undoubtedly bring her peace of mind. She’ll experience a physical release from the spanking and it might benefit you by giving you a way to help her over the rough patches. She’ll get the emotional reassurance that she is desperate for, your strength during her weakness will reaffirm your love and that the world is still safe and secure even if it’s the second weekend in a row that you are stuck out of town and can’t spend time with her. Finally, it will give her something to think about the next time she becomes a moving target and does something crazy like borrowing a friends computer and opening a second gmail account just so she can read what you wrote. I bet deep down she just really misses you and wishes she could change the situation so the next 48 hours were spent in your arms rather than with her nose in a book. Just a thought. Again, nice job on the blog. XOXO ;)"

I just pictured him at his desk at work, finding my taunt, and not being able to do anything about it for at least two days before he was home again.  He didn't find it.  Then when he did get home, I was at work so we met at a bagel shop and I couldn't take it anymore so I showed him on my phone.  He read it, straight faced and then just looked at me- like it was nothing.  I squirmed around a bit, laughing too much, looking for that big "reaction", but it never came.  When he left, he kissed my cheek and said he loved it.  Hmph.  What's the point in throwing a temper tantrum if he won't react?!  (Note; Eric is even keeled, I am not.)

At the house, the day of my final, I poked at him.  I showed him my worst grades, talked back, even pushed him around a little... but it had been almost a week since we'd seen each other and he just wanted me to study.  He told me how proud he was, kissed me on the counter (there we are on the counter again), and after an hour, went back to work so I would study.  I'm so spent and so burnt.  I just want him to come in and take control so I can fall apart enough to recover from the last six weeks but it's almost like he loves me too much.  He just wants to hold me and tell me to hang in there.  I wouldn't change any of that kindness and this is by no means a complaint, but I want him to see that he's got to get me off this ledge before I can just kick back and enjoy where I've been.  How twisted is that?

This weekend, I just want him.  How's it feel to want?  He's gone again.  :(