Friday, December 28, 2018

Go Dawg Go

Go Dawg Go
The words I say in response to Eric hitting the road

Go Dawg Go
My voice so strong, logic repeating what we both know

His job has changed
The trauma too often
The stints lasting longer
Far far away

Go Dawg Go
His fears insurmountable
Health issues now critical
Be strong and just go...

Release the stress
Your needs most important
first you, my Sparky
Promise, first you

Go Dawg Go

I'm here,
not submissive,
nor being supportive,
but willing to sacrifice
for you, my true love

Go Dawg Go
Turn sorrow to passion
Fear into strength
and find peace
in not knowing.

Other half of my heart,
count your steps over time,
be the man who you are,
the one you want to be.

Have faith in miracles,
believe like I do.
Remember, my love,
that's how I met you.

Go Dawg Go


Sunday, December 23, 2018

Christmas Wishes Come True

The day dragged, work seeming to never come to an end.  I raced home and locked myself in our room.  I asked Alexa to play my new favorite Christmas song as I danced around, working out a routine to surprise my husband.  I practiced with high heel boots but decided on pumps instead.  I tried lingerie with stockings and concluded it was the right look, even better with a Santa hat.  My phone beeped.  He was coming home. I was a sweaty mess; not sure if it was because of the sudden increase in physical activity or my nerves.

For years, Eric has talked about going to Vegas.

"I'm going to sign you up for one of those amateur strip club classes," he would fantasize, "and then I can be in the audience watching you shake your money maker on stage."

Silly man, but...

I stood at the top of the stairs when he walked in the house.  I beckoned him upstairs and had him sit on the spanking chair.  I was shaking.  

I took his hands in mine and said, "After this, I may never be able to look you in the eye again."  Then I turned away from him and told Alexa to hit it.

As the music played, I threw one hand in the air, and then another.  I put the Santa hat on my head and then spun around to see the most handsome man in the world completely engrossed and fascinated by me.  I kicked off a shoe and it crashed against the tile floor in the bathroom making us both laugh, startled by the noise and the fact that I'd overshot so much.  One more shoe and off came my blazer.  

Eric was entranced as I wiggled and shook, rocked and rolled.  Off came the dress and I could suddenly see his cock surge in his pants.  Underneath was the red teddy and black stockings.  At the end of the song, I straddled him and an incredible kiss of passion let me know there was nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed by. 

"Best Christmas present ever," Eric said, as he ran his fingers through my hair, kissed my neck, and got undressed.

A small leather paddle appeared from out of nowhere and I was spanked for being such a "naughty little minx".   The sting just added to the heat in the room and neither of us could get enough of the other.  We did it all.... he went down on me, I went down on him, we 69'ed.  After a round with mouthwash it was back to bed, sexy bouts with the paddle in between hardcore sex.

"I don't want to cum yet," Eric would say as he got close and we'd stop just long enough to start something else again.

The evening disappeared as we discovered how incredible a little play, a little dance, a little fantasy come true can make passion soar.

In case I don't get on here again in the next few days, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone in Blog land.  May your holidays be filled with courage, dance, and passion.


Wednesday, December 19, 2018

Birthday Spanks

Happy Birthday to Me!

Image result for happy birthday to me spanking

I woke up to a string of birthday emoji's and well wishes, 
only to be scolded for being on my phone first thing in the morning.

"Amy Lynn!  What the heck are you doing on your phone? We are still in bed."

"It's my birthday!!" I exclaimed.  "I have messages!!!"

"I'll give you messages," Eric grinned, and over his knee I went.

Image result for 48

Naturally, we found this to be a wonderful way to start the day 
(feel free to ask your HOH for 48 swats in my honor) 
but then we had a conversation about birthday spankings.  
I mean, seriously, why do we do this? 

Image result for birthday spankin

Does anybody ever question the weird tradition 
of SPANKING the birthday girl?! 
Who came up with this anyway? 

Not that I'm complaining,

Image result for birthday spanking

Tell me again... why is this our tradition?

Wikipedia to the rescue! 
Apparently the world is full of 
pinching, punching, spanking, bumping -
all in the name of counting up the years. 

Image result for no pinching

I'm sticking with the spankings!

Image result for birthday spankin

(And the cake!)

Image result for birthday cake

Enjoy and have a fabulous day!!


""The bumps", or "the dumps" in Scotland,[1][2] a birthday torment common in countries such as the UK, Ireland, Canada, and India,[3] involves the friends and family of the person whose birthday it is taking him or her by the arms and legs, and "bumping" him/her up into the air and down onto the floor.[3][4] The number of "bumps" given equals the age of the person in years plus one "for luck".[3][4] Usually "the Bumps" are administered only to children, in part because as people grow up they become too heavy for the process.[3]Sometimes bumps are also referred to as kicks where the person celebrating their birthday is held by their arms and legs and their friends kick them. This practice is often disapproved in regard to health and safety concerns.
In French-speaking Canada, the U.S. and Australia, "birthday punches" are given in a similar fashion, with the person whose birthday it is being punched a number of times equal to his/her age, often with one additional punch "for luck".[3]In some places, instead of a punch "for luck," the recipient is pinched "to grow an inch." In Brazil, Hungary, Argentina, Italy, and other countries, the person has his/her earlobes pulled.[3][5] The Hungarian tradition also involves at the same time as pulling the earlobes wishing the person a happy birthday or reciting a rhyme whose English translation is "God bless you, live so long so your ears reach your ankles.".[6]
Similar to birthday punches are birthday spankings. While they are usually administered to children, the practice is somewhat common, even in areas and communities or among families where corporal punishment is otherwise frowned upon. The spankings, characteristically, are mostly administered in such a fashion that they do not hurt the recipient at all, or if they do, it is usually only a small "sting". Traditionally, they are given to children under the age of 16. With this tradition the birthday recipient, as a general rule, gets spanked on his or her buttocks the same number of times as the number of years they have been alive, often with a final, extra spank administered as "one to grow on".
In Israel, part of the birthday celebration for a child in kindergarten is to lift the decorated chair that the child sits on into the air several times, once for each year of the child's age, plus "one for the next year".[3][7]
In Venezuela, a widespread custom is to attempt the pushing of the person's face into the birthday cake when they blow out the candles. This frequently destroys the cake.
Birthday punches are administered throughout the day, but if the "birthday boy" hides from the punches, one final punch is allowed to be given.

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Corner Time in the Car

It's been a long time since Eric put me in the corner but when I was in school, it happened quite often.  I'd get all wound up in my head, with too many things on my plate, and a reset spanking that was followed by some corner time worked wonders.

Image result for corner time cartoon

A reset tends to be the more intense of all spankings I receive.  Eric will have me bend over the kitchen counter and he'll use the cheese board to paddle the back of my jeans or spandex pants.  As my cheeks heat up, he'll begin the lecture about over committing and driving myself insane.  The he'll have me strip down and I'll go over his knee, his hand or favorite strap completing the job.

Image result for otk spanking cartoon

Then in the corner I go.

"Nipples against the wall," he'll say, watching his handiwork as I settle in the aftermath of his discipline.

I've needed a new car for many, many years.  Finally, we found the perfect fit and I now own a sweet little ride but after three weeks, I still hadn't taken care of the final paperwork, etc. and Eric was not having it.

"Amy Lynn!" he exclaimed when I admitted to having done none of the tasks I'd previously agreed to.  Out came the paddle.  Over the counter I went.  Off came the clothes.  Over his knee I went.

"It's time for you to get your focus back, Missy," Eric said and I headed toward the corner.

"Not there," he warned, grabbing my arm and taking me out to the garage.

Eric opened the door and motioned for me to bend over the back of the car.

"Nipples on the trunk," he said, taking in the view of my reddened trunk.

Of course, it wasn't long before that corner time turned into sex in the car... in the garage.

Image result for sex over convertible car


Sunday, December 9, 2018

Teeth Marks in the Soap

A chilly autumn day; gray clouds dotting the sky like puffs of smoke from an old mans pipe. The heat kicks on late into the afternoon while Eric and I dash in and out of the house; running errands, working, and prepping for another long week ahead.  Finally, a moment presents itself to catch our breaths and we end up in the living room at the same time.

"Strip for me," he says, settling into the cushions of a couch filled with many memories.

"You can leave your socks on," he adds, on second thought, "it's cold in here."

I hesitate, thinking of the extra pounds I've put on recently, but his eager face makes me brush the insecurity away and I remove my pants, sweatshirt, and bra.  Eric puts me across his lap and meticulously strokes every inch of a body that has been through months and months of hell.  My muscles give way, the angry scars settle softly under his touch, and a sense of security calms my nerves.  I flip over and let his hands work their magic on my front as well, my head nuzzling into the cozy fabric of his pullover.

"I want to make all of your dreams come true," he says earnestly, "whatever you want, Amy Lynn, I'm the guy to give it to you.  Anything.  I want to make you the happiest girl in the world."

Eric takes me to the kitchen counter and after placing a plush towel on the tile, lays my body on the hard surface.  Knees spread, he dives his tongue in and out of my private petals; licking, lapping, and loving every crack and crevice.

"Come on, Pretty Girl," he says pulling me to my feet, "let's go upstairs."

We make our way to the bedroom but Eric walks me back to the bathroom counter and once again puts the towel in place, this time for me to sit rather than lie down.

"We need to talk about your mouth, Young Lady," he scolds reaching for a bar of soap (grapefruit scented) from the side of the tub.  Months, maybe even years ago, we had a conversation about getting one's mouth washed out with a bar of soap. Another blogger had been using it to refrain from smoking and we had heard other stories of such discipline.  I was curious, the one who pushed it and said, one day, I'd like to know what it was all about.

My stomach lurched, that moment of realization that once again, this man had listened to me and planned out a way to give me what I asked for.  I gulped as he continued.

"You're getting spanked while you hold this bar of soap in your mouth," his tone was sincere and stern, "and if you break it or drop it, I'm going to wet my fingers and run them over the soap and around your mouth so you never forget this day."

I have been accused of being mouthy before but for the life of me, could not think of what recent event would cause my husband to want to wash out my mouth with soap.  True to form, Eric caught me off guard by punishing me not for what I said, but for what I didn't say.  Soap in mouth, his belt swatted my naked behind for not standing up for myself when asked to work too much, or when my feelings were being hurt.

One swat and I jumped, spun around and gave him giant doe eyes.

"You can take it out if you need to say something," he said.

I shook my head and tried to speak around the bar.

"It's too much," I mumbled and he unfolded the belt and wrapped it around his hand so just the tale end would leave his mark.

Two more swats and I was jumping again.

"Take it out if it's terrible," he said and I did.

"Yuck!" I said, bits of soap stuck to the back of my teeth.  "How do people do this?!" I exclaim and run to the sink to spit and do a quick rinse with mouthwash.

Eric just shook his head.

"Face the mirror," he said and his belt flew from the top of my shoulder blades, methodically down my back, bottom, and legs.

When he finished, I spun around and drove my lips onto his mouth, my body alive and on fire, filled with passion for this man who owns my heart.  Without breaking stride, we made our way to the bed and spent an hour kissing, holding, hugging, and pounding away.  I do not orgasm easily and certainly not without a toy or added stimuli.  Today, that all changed.  The massive amount of foreplay and care and love showered upon me all culminated in a magnificent shudder that rocked my mind enough to see stars.

An incredible day. An incredible man.

I am the happiest girl in the world and lying on my elbow, staring into the eyes of the most handsome, intelligent, considerate, and sexy man I've ever met is truly all I need.

No more teeth marks in the soap; but completely worth the "try".


Tuesday, December 4, 2018

Comfort Zone

The blustery wind blew orange and yellow leaves across deep green grass and the sky was filled with layers of dark clouds, threatening rain.  We dressed in silence, tension across Eric's face and stress filled thoughts on my mind. Finally, he spoke.

"Why were you up at 2am? It's like you're slipping back into old patterns but you're barely returning to work and getting on your feet."

I sighed.  It had been well over 48 hours since I'd been given the green light to be free of medical restrictions. Naturally I took that to mean, "sign up for everything you've been missing out on, commit to the impossible, and when you get overwhelmed just stop sleeping". 

Come on.  Sleep is overrated. Right?

Eric wasn't having it.

"I looked at the Blog last night," he stated, news to me since I hadn't checked on it in weeks.  "You never replied to the comments on your last post.  It's not like you and it's not right."

He kissed me on his way out the door and mentioned that we'd be "taking care of this tonight".  As I gathered my belongings for the day, a warm sense of familiarity settled in my bones.  Hour passed exuding high levels of productivity, progress, and a positive outlook, all in anticipation of the dreaded yet desired evening ahead.

"Amy Lynn," Eric's voice echoed throughout the house as he announced his arrival home.  "Upstairs NOW."

I knew the drill.  His hand on the back of my arm, leading me to our bedroom.  An order to strip before him and then enter the walk-in closet.  Fingers laced overhead, clutching tightly to the top clothing rack while the hairbrush landed squarely on one check and then the other.  Back sweaty, breathing exaggerated, my body coming alive as my brain relaxed.  One last strike and he was in my ear, "You're going over my knee young lady, and then after some corner time, you're going to respond to those bloggers."

In the main room, I watch as Eric pulls the spanking chair from against the wall.  I get lost in his strength, determination, and masculinity.  He is solid and powerful, strikingly handsome with a slight wave to his hair and bright blue eyes that sparkle. I've memorized his hands, their appearance and the tasks they perform; care, correction, caress.

Eric sits and beckons for me to find my place, securely tucked in the crease of his legs.  The rain pounds against the window as my spanking ensues on already reddened skin, his hand slapping, smacking, and stating the purpose behind our routine. I memorize his ankle as I hold tight, trying not to squirm or cry out, silently encouraging him to do more, strike harder, spank longer.  It's too much and I send my hand back in protection.  He knows he has me and pinned in place, he rounds out the routine with ten quick swats.

The corner is cold, a chilling relief to an inflamed backside, and after a short time, we make love. As he showers, I fulfill his directive, and am back on the Blog.

I've missed this.



That sense of normalcy, even if only for a day.

It's a good thing.