Throwback Thursday - This one is for you Nora Jean

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Need a POW to talk? Easy

Any country engaging in battle finds itself with the unpleasant task of interrogating prisoners of war.  I suppose in any marriage, one or the other spouse finds times when he/she must inflict various torture techniques to get a partner to talk. (I have been accused of "poking the bear" until Eric either speaks up or shoves his cock in my mouth to shut me up.)

Lately, I've been silent in my own head, Eric and I unable to connect as we have before. Today I experienced a truly effective way to make any human squeal.

The tiny room was barely lit, hot and muggy, though the day outside was cool and comfortable.  A hard backed wooden chair pressed up against the filthy corner and a curtain danced throughout the dust bunnies buried underneath. The bed, lined with plush white linens and pretty purple pillows looked somehow ominous and uninviting.

"Pants off."

A command.

"Face down."

Another command, followed by a gesture toward the mattress.

"Spread cheeks."

I hid my face in the rectangular fluff and reached back, swallowing hard as I grasped my own ass and parted two unsuspecting globes. A deep breath and I glanced to the side, just in time to see a stick in the hands of my tormentor. Burning hot, it lapped at my skin and was followed by intense searing pain.

"Turn over."

I shielded my eyes from the piercing circular light overhead and my knees were thrust into my chest and opened wide.

Again, the stick, this time roasting the tender skin of all areas private to me and leaving red welted tracks of stinging agony. I clenched my teeth, fists balled up under the trauma as tears popped uncontrollably into view. My misery was unmistakable as I audibly begged for it to be over quickly.

I was handed a mirror, with which to view the raised battered skin that still smarted even though it had been cooled off by an oiled palm.  My own fault. I had willingly signed up for this treatment and paid for it in more ways than one.

Blushing, I raced home to Eric, ready to talk and searching for his tender kisses on my now smooth bikini waxed body.

Need a POW to talk? Easy. Just send him to a wax salon.

Amy

Mowing the Lawn and Trimming the Tree

NJ did a very interesting and useful post about Mowing the Lawn. Eric and I both enjoyed her metaphor and got a kick out of the comments that were posted in response.  Most intriguing to him was the fact that many bloggers stated landscaping only became a routine once TTWD was in place.


"Why did that make a difference?" he pondered.  "Aren't all lawns mowed on a regular basis and what about trimming the trees?  Nobody mentioned that. Don't all men tend to their trees and berries? Wouldn't their women do the same?!"



I laughed and thought back to the days when my lawn was more jungle vines than clipped golf course greens.  Then I shivered at my pre-Eric history of ivy infested trees and prickly pears. Not all men have a green thumb and Eric doesn't realize how lucky I am to be with a man who is diligent about pruning his tree and keeping the berry patch free of weeds.  He just assumes men are one in the same when it comes to yard work.



"Do you remember the first time we talked about landscaping?" I asked, thinking back to our third date at a little Mexican Hacienda.  Having not even kissed me yet, the man had asked how my lawn was kept over enchiladas, chips, and salsa. 



"Huh?" I asked naively.  "What lawn?  I have a few plants at home but wait, what are you talking about?"



After a few attempts at a cryptic conversation, Eric flat out asked if my lawn was a Brazilian grassland or cut into a landing strip. I blushed a deep shade of red and refused to admit that the yard was untouched, organically grown.



Eventually, Eric saw my lawn and as I got more comfortable with his landscaping expertise, I allowed him to take some tiny scissors to my bonsai tree.  Six years later, I'm a frequent flyer at the blue wax landscape salon (and no, DIY was terrible, as was yellow wax).  Keeping up with the yard work can be expensive and painful but it is addictive once you (and he) get a taste of a freshly manicured garden.



We still don't have a date but at some point, Eric and I will be vacationing in Las Vegas.  We've got "Box" book marked on my laptop and will probably schedule that appointment even before we book our flights and hotel room.  It'll be good for us to bring in a professional to keep our landscaping fresh.



Amy

"I'm putting my foot down"

It was a beautiful night (Thursday) and we bbq'd hamburgers in the backyard and chatted about our day.  Everything was comfortable. Easy.

"So what do you have going on tomorrow?" Eric asked.

Suddenly it hit me. I had been planning on joining my old hiking group for the entire week.  I'd been walking more and more each day, training to get back on my weekly trek up a trail and through the trees.  First the knee, then the current recovery - it has been forever since I felt physically fit and normal.  In my mind, it was time.

Back to, "suddenly it hit me".  Suddenly it hit me that I hadn't told Eric my plan.  Not only that, I answered his question with, "I love you."

He didn't skip a beat.

"I love you too," he replied. "Now what aren't you telling me?"

Eric51Amy49 does not indicate, as many people assume, our ages.  Instead, we thought it was a great representation of how our relationship works. Eric51%Amy49%  We initially looked at and thought a DD thing might suit us but for many reasons, it just didn't.  Sure, he's the HOH and all but realistically, we have created a more TTWD routine that keeps us happy. When push comes to shove, Eric does have that extra % to swing a decision but we really do play more than anything. The vast majority of my spankings come as resets because I've got too much on my plate and then, of course, there are the sexy fun ones. :P

Anyway, I took a deep breath and said, "You know I've been walking a lot but actually I was really training because I'm going to try the old hike I used to do with the girls tomorrow."

"No you're not," came the quick reply.

"Yes I am," I said confidently.  "Honey, I'm ready.  I've worked my way up to this and I'm tired of not feeling like myself so I'm going to get back into my old routines."

Eric frowned.

"I know, I know," I said, "and you don't need to say a word. I get it.  I'm supposed to be recovering and laying low. I know what you're going to say."

Then, in my deepest most manly of voices, I mimicked him:
"Amy Lynn, it's too soon for you to be hiking but if you've made up your mind, I can't stop you.  But, when you need to be rescued and end up hurting yourself again, don't come crying to me!"

"That is not what I was going to say," Eric responded.  "You're not going.  I'm putting my foot down. End of conversation. You - are - not - going."

"Wait... what?"  I was dumbfounded.  I don't think Eric has ever truly forbade me to go somewhere or do something.

"You heard me, Amy Lynn.  You are not going.  This recovery is too important.  I'm saying no."

Interestingly, what came to my head were phrases like, "Well, who the hell do you think you are?" and "You can't tell me no!" and "Are you kidding me with this?!" and "Just watch me!" but that was just the tape playing in my head.  In my heart, the realization was, "Wow. He is really going to take a stand for something in my best interest, that wouldn't affect him one way or another." Let's face it, this could turn into a huge disagreement and Eric really didn't have a dog in the fight but he was being very sincere.

And then, and this was the most interesting part to me, I suddenly got really wet and turned on. Huh?! I guess the look on my face was as confusing as my physical reaction because Eric stood up and put his hands on my shoulders before asking, "Are you okay?"

I nodded and kissed him as passionately as I ever have before.  That confused him too, but his body reacted the same way mine did.

La la la - you didn't see or hear what happened next but let's just say, neither of us had any idea what a huge turn on it would be to have Eric step in so strong and have me lean in so close.

(On a side note, Eric was very clear that if I were not currently injured, I would be Red Ass Amy right now. Guess that spanking will be tucked away in the "remember that time you..." pile for Eric to pull out another day.)

I'm still thinking about that evening, though.  It sits with me, inside of me, like a secure anchor that has me feeling loved, protected, and safe.  Interesting...

Amy

PS- No, I didn't do the hike but went for a walk with the girls instead.  It was way too much.  I couldn't keep up even on a flat track.  "Patience, Amy Lynn.  Patience!"

Our Dynamic and His Sense of Humor

Lately, Blogland has been sporadic for me.  Had some medical issues that will keep me down for about four months but if the recovery is handled well, I'll be pain and problem free for the first time in a very long time.  Although things are on schedule, it's understandably difficult and there were some big scares along the way. As a result, Eric is handling me with kid gloves and what I mean by that, is Eric isn't handling me at all! No spanking and no sex. 



"No Amy Lynn.  Not until you are 100%."  

Mind you, my husband is being very protective and sweet with this proclamation and I do know there are men in the world who demand to be pleasured regardless of the state their mate is in, so this is not a complaint by any means, just a story.



Frankly, the girl does not handle the word "no" well. On top of that, I'm lying around all the time, am home bound, and bored.  The perfect combination to get sexually wound up and in trouble!  

The other day, I couldn't stand it any longer. I texted Eric to come upstairs. He dashed into our room to make sure I was okay and found me naked, knees spread wide open, with a little table tent on my belly that read, "open for business". 



Without skipping a beat, Eric took the card, left the room for a moment, came back, returned the card, and went downstairs. I waited to see if he was going to come back but he didn't so disappointed, I took the card off my tummy and looked at it. My message had been crossed out and Eric had written, "Closed for remodeling". 




That man!!  Since then, Eric has found a way to hook me up pretty darn good without injuring the healing areas so things are looking up! It'll be a long haul though.  Hmmm. How shall I toy with him next? :D



Amy