tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54563452497636401332024-03-18T20:36:06.517-07:00Husband Really Punished By His Wifert190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-40605455429541891082015-08-04T09:52:00.001-07:002015-08-04T09:52:05.619-07:00Its a....Well I just thought I would make a quick post to tell you two things.<br />
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1) I have not been spanked since I was spanked last time by my mother<br />
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2) It's a Girl. I am not going to tell you the exact weight, date or time, but mom and daughter are doing well and are home now. <br />
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Hopefully this will be my last post, but should I have another spanking incident, I will be sure to share it with everyone. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-18996427307715950062015-06-11T07:14:00.000-07:002015-06-11T07:14:14.508-07:00Everything Old is New AgainWell, I had indicated that I reserved the right to post again and I am reluctantly exercising that right. I wish I wasn't as there was an incident that happened that drove me to write another post.<br />
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First off, let me remind everyone that my wife is about 7 months pregnant. Everything is going well with the pregnancy, but lets be honest. Even though this is a happy and welcome pregnancy, this does not mean that there isn't a lot of stress and tension. I realize my wife is the one who is physically being affected by all this, but I think it is unfair to the fathers to completely dismiss the emotional strain a pregnancy puts on them. I know it is easy for a father to walk away and emotionally distance himself if we wanted to, but for a caring husband and responsible father, there is a lot of stress on us too. I am constantly worried about my wife's health and the health of our baby, finances, logistics, etc. And there is a frenzy of activity and planning, discussions about the birthing experience, breastfeeding, family leave, car seats, cribs, high chairs, finding a pediatrician, the list seems almost endless. And everyone has an opinion on what is right and they are not reluctant to share their opinions with us. I am telling you, given all this its no wonder the species can reproduce at all. </div>
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So that said, my wife and I had a fight. I am not going to discuss what started it, what it was about, who was right or who was wrong. In my opinion, we were both right and we were both wrong. First off, I never touched her. This was a shouting match only, but I did storm out of the house and drove away to cool off. I did not return until later that evening, having missed a Lamaze class that we were supposed to attend that evening. Having cooled off and calmed down, I figured I was ready to try to have a rational discussion with her and hopefully she had also calmed down and was ready to talk again. </div>
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When I entered the house, my mother was sitting on the couch. I was a bit surprised, but greeted her and asked her why she was here. </div>
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"Well, I got a call from your wife wanting to know if you were at my house. She was worried about you in spite of the fact that you were an insensitive jerk to her." She replied.</div>
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"Hey look. I am sorry we had a fight, but she was just as rude to me." I said defensively.</div>
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"Your wife is pregnant. You need to be a little more understanding."</div>
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"I know she is pregnant, but that does not give her the right to be unreasonable."</div>
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She shook her head in disappointment, "Look, when a woman is pregnant her hormones are out of whack. It can cause her to be more emotional. You can't react to her like you normally would. I know this pregnancy puts stress on you, but you need to be the voice of reason." </div>
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I think a part of me knew she was right, but I still thought the stress on me was being marginalized so I shot back, "Look, I get it, she's pregnant, but I don't think you understand how much stress is on me."</div>
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Without hesitation she replied, "OK, so your wife, who is suffering a chemical imbalance doesn't get a pass for being a bit moody, but you want a pass because you are stressed?"</div>
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"No, I didn't say she doesn't have an excuse. I am just saying that this is affecting me too."</div>
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"I understand. If the two of you just have a shouting match, but then went to separate rooms to calm down I think it all would have worked out. The problem is you left her, without word of where you were going or when you would be back. You did not answer you cell phone when we called. That is not the behavior of someone who just needed some fresh air or needed some time to calm down. That was the behavior of someone who wanted to make his wife worry and wanted to hurt her. You were gone for 3 hours without any word."</div>
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When my mother put it that way, I did start to feel a little embarrassed. "Where is she now?" I finally thought to ask. </div>
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"She went to the Lamaze class without you. Your father is filling in for you. I am glad she decided to call me. She was pretty upset when I spoke with her."</div>
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I started to feel a little guilty so I meekly replied, "well, thanks."</div>
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She saw that I was staring at my feet so she stood up, placed her hand under my chin and lifted it to force me to look into her eyes. It was a strange feeling, like I had when I was 12 years old, but still, I never would have anticipated what happened next. </div>
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"You know," she began, "I had encouraged your wife to take you over her knee when you acted like a child. I think it really helped your marriage and your wife had seen a lot of improvement in you."</div>
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I gulped, this was the first time I ever heard my mother acknowledge that she knew my wife spanked me and that it was her suggestion. It was a bit of a shock, even though my wife admitted this to me previously. </div>
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She continued, "of course, with her pregnant now, I don't think it would be a good idea for her to try to spank you anymore. But," she paused, "your behavior tonight was so selfish and childish I think you need a reminder that a spanking is not out of the question if you behave in such a childish manner ever again." </div>
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My heart began pounding in my chest as I contemplated how my mother would propose my wife should spank me again. It would probably not be over her knee. Perhaps it would be laying on the bed or over the sofa. I thought that perhaps her swing would not be as forceful as they have been in the past. Of course, I would not try to fight her. I wasn't happy, but I would be passive to insure that neither she or the baby got hurt. I presumed my mother was here to gain my assurance that I would not resist. How wrong I was. </div>
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My mother turned and walked towards a table in the corner of the room. It was then that I saw the hairbrush and she began to pick it up. my heart nearly leaped out of my chest as I began to suspect what was about to happen. I looked in horror as my mother approached me with the brush, but I dared not open my mouth in protest as I was unsure exactly what she had in mind. </div>
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She began, "Your wife and father will be home in about an hour. When they get here, you will be standing in the corner with your freshly spanked bottom on display. Your father and I will leave and you and your wife can discuss how to ensure something like this does not happen again. "</div>
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Well, there is was, she was proposing spanking me herself. That was not going to happen. It was one thing to submit to my wife, but I was an adult and there was no way she was going to spank me. </div>
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Rather than complain or whine, I began calmly and rationally to try to show I was in control. "Mother, I appreciate your concern, but I am not a child anymore. My wife and I will deal with this ourselves and I will respect her wishes in this matter."</div>
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She replied, "Her wishes in this matter are clear. If you were to come home before her, I was to spank you and put you in the corner. That is why she gave me the brush. I am glad you decided to finally come home. I will admit, we were unsure of what we would have done if you did not come home at all. At least as far as that goes you made the right decision."<br />
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Again, I tried not to get emotional or excited, "I understand mother, but like I said, I will discuss this with her when she gets home. This is between her and I and does not concern you."<br />
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She replied as calmly as me, "Well, it does concern me as she was the one who called me all upset. Your father and I came over here right away to minimize the damage you had done. If you wanted this to be between you and her, then you should have stayed here and worked it out instead of running away like a child and refusing to answer your phone. You made it my concern when you abandoned your wife."<br />
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She paused letting the words sink in. I struggled for an intelligent response and when none came she continued.<br />
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"Now," she started again, "you are going to get your naughty backside spanked by me and you will stand in the corner until your wife gets home. After that, I hope the two of you can work out the issues you are having."<br />
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My heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth was getting dry, but again I tried to maintain my composure and calmly tried to reassert myself, "Sorry mother, I am not going to be spanked by you. I am not baby anymore."<br />
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"Nonsense!", she replied a little more forceful, "you act like a child, you get treated like a child. That is the way it has always been. It's not like you haven't been spanked before. It's not like you haven't been spanked by ME before. Now come here and take your spanking and don't make this any worse for yourself." she said as she pointed to the spot in front of where she was sitting.<br />
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I was confused. This was very different from my wife threatening to spank me. I must admit, what normally forces me into compliance with my wife is the fact that I don't want to lose her. Now I love my mother, but I did not feel the same kind of threat from her that I did for my wife. <br />
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I swallowed hard, took a deep breath and again calmly asserted myself. "I appreciate your concern and willingness to help and I thank you for helping us out during our disagreement, but like I said, what happens next is between me and my wife."<br />
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I thought that would be the end of it. I was calm and adult like and had made my point. Whatever, had happened in the past with my wife spanking me was between my wife and I. Oh, of course I realize now that it was my mother who had persuaded her to do it, but still. My mother lost her authority to spank me when I became an adult. If my wife wanted to spank me when she got home, I would reluctantly accept that, but my mother was not going to spank me.<br />
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She stood up and I held my head up defiantly. She looked at me and I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She moved slowly towards me. I had a reflex to cringe and back away, but I forced myself to hold my ground. When she got to within a foot from me and did not see me backing down I figured that would be the end of it.<br />
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At first, she spoke softly, "I don't think you fully understand the position you are in. Your wife has given me the authority to spank you. Regardless of that fact, I am your mother and I will be your mother until the day I die. You are never too old to be spanked. If you act like a child you will be spanked like a child. You thought you were too old to be spanked when you were 12. You were wrong then and you are wrong now."<br />
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I hated my mother at that moment, bringing up the last time she spanked me. It made me feel like such a child. I cringed at the thought. I continued to stand my ground but as the realization that she was not backing down began to sink in, I realized I had two choices, fight or flight. She was right, she was my mother, fight was not an option, but flight was. I decided to just walk away and lock myself in the bathroom and wait for my wife to come home. <br />
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"I need to use the bathroom." I said calmly hoping she would not realize my intentions. <br />
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She grabbed my arm as I started to move, "I don't think so." she said sternly. She gripped my arm strongly and I was unsure what to do next.<br />
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You see, unlike when my wife was ordering me around, I felt I had nothing to lose with my mother. If I refused to submit, what would the consequences be? This was not like when I was 12. I really was a child at 12 and had no choice but to ultimately submit to my mother's authority, but I was an adult now. If I refused, it was not like with my wife where I was afraid she would leave me. I loved my mother and wanted to be respectful but in the end, she held no real authority over me. <br />
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Then almost as if she could read minds she said, "Look, you need to understand that I am acting with full support of your wife. She is in no condition to spank you herself. You have been spanked before when you needed it and while we were hoping you had finally matured, you need to understand that you will be spanked again now and in the future should you regress to your childish ways. Your wife is pregnant with your child. A child who will need a responsible and caring father, not some selfish, irresponsible man who acts like a child when things don't go his way. Your wife has told me you have made a lot of progress in the last few years but clearly there is still room for improvement. I know this is very difficult for you, but I am your mother. I suggest you take your spanking and be in the corner with your pants down when your wife comes home. Storming out of the house and leaving you pregnant wife here alone, wondering what was happening was very irresponsible. Accepting your spanking for that will go a long way to show your remorse for that and get your marriage back on track."<br />
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As the words started to sink in, my heart started to pound in my chest and I started to shiver slightly as I slowly began to think about what I had done. I looked at my mother and felt so ashamed at what I had did. Already tears filled my eyes as I realized the potential damage I could have done to my marriage. <br />
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Again, as if my mother could read minds she added, "You are now bringing a child into this world. You must be there for that child no matter what." she paused for effect, "Just like your father and I were always there for you." she paused again, "Just like I am here for you now."<br />
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I finally looked down at the floor genuinely ashamed for what I did when I saw her reach for my belt. I was broken, and I did not resist. I swallowed hard and perhaps in attempt to console myself I could not help but ask, "Mom, did you spank Dad like this?" <br />
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She had my belt unbuckled and was in the process of unbuttoning my jeans when she took a deep breath and paused as if contemplating her response. She looked me in the eye and said, "Don't feel bad about this, but no. Your father was very mature and responsible. I never had to spank him myself. But, if he acted the way you did, you bet I would have. I would like you to be the kind of man your father is. You must accept this spanking and learn from it."<br />
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As she unzipped my jeans I began reflecting on what she said about my dad. I guess I was hoping to learn that she spanked him too. I respected my father and saw him as a real man and a positive role model. If I had learned that my mother had spanked him like my wife had spanked me, it might have helped ease the feeling of humiliation I was experiencing. But that was not the case.<br />
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As my mother opened the front of my jeans and my white briefs came into view I grabbed the waistband of my jeans and stepped back from her saying, "I am sorry mother, I just can't let you do this." and I started to zip them back up again. <br />
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I thought that would be the end of it. I was going to ask her politely to leave and I was going to wait for my wife to come home and the two of us would settle this as a couple. <br />
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At first she spoke very calmly, "Your wife will be back in about 30 minutes. We don't have much time. For your own good and the good of your marriage I am going to bare your bottom, spank you and put you in the corner. Are you going to accept the consequences of your action like a penitent young man or do I need to drag you over my lap like a naughty little boy?"<br />
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I stood there, my jeans zipped up, but my belt still unbuckled. I was trembling, shaking and feeling a cold icy chill come over me. My stomach was turning over and it was an overall surreal experience. It was strange and weird, yet at the same time a familiar scene. In many ways I felt like I was 12 again but still adamant that at my age I should not be spanked by my mother. Hell I wasn't even sure my wife should be spanking me, but she had a hold on me very different than my mother. I simply did not know what to do and I stood frozen with indecision.<br />
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Then it happened. It happened so fast I am not even sure exactly what happened. My mother lunged for me. I felt a burning in my ear as she twisted it cruelly forcing me to bend at the waist. She let go and I felt her hands back at my jeans and they were quickly unzipped and she was tugging them down. I tried to pull away, but she already had them to my knees. As I stepped backwards I lost my balance and fell on the couch. She quickly had my jeans at my ankles and partially turned them inside out across my feet. <br />
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She let go of my jeans and I quickly pulled my knees to my chest and tried to protect myself as she approached. "Mom, stop it!" I yelled. cowering on the couch. She again reached for my ear and I yelped in pain as she again twisted it and she forced me up from the couch again to avoid the pain. I stood crouched over in front of her. She let go of my ear and when my hands instinctively went to my ear she took the opportunity to deliver three quick sharp smacks to my bare thigh. <br />
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I yelled out at the sting and again flopped back on the couch to escape. "Ow, Mom! That hurt!"<br />
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"Get up!" she shouted, as I started to hear the controlled anger in her voice. She was determined. I could clearly see that. I thought of making a run for the bathroom again, but my pants around my ankles made that impossible. "You are just making this worse for your self. Now stand up." She delivered three more smacks to the back of my thighs and I curled up on the couch.<br />
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"Mom, please stop!" She responded to my pleas with three more slaps. Tears started to flow down my eyes, not so much from the pain. The slaps stung, but they really didn't hurt that much. No, the tears were from a deep well of emotion made up of confusion, fear, humiliation and a feeling of inadequacy. What kind of man was I that found my self curled up on the couch, pants at my ankles begging my mom to stop hitting me?<br />
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"Mom, please don't spank me." I began through the tears. I felt her hand at my ear again, but I quickly got up to avoid the pain. She placed her hands on my underpants and I instinctively reach for her hands to stop her, but I did not pull away. 'Mom, please let me keep my underpants on." and with that plea she knew she had me. I was beginning to submit.<br />
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"Perhaps if you had obeyed me right away I might have considered it, but your childish behavior does not warrant any leniency." and with that she quickly pulled my briefs all the way down to my ankles. As she stared at my now bared body, she could not resist the temptation to further 'put me in my place' with a quick comment "You have nothing to hide. It is not like I have not see you like this before. With the exception that you have a little hair around it now, you don't look much different than when you were 12."<br />
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That hurt. How dare she belittle my genitals. What kind of mother would do that? But she had no sooner said it when I found myself falling across her knees. She clamped my legs with her leg and before I could even process what was happening the hairbrush came crashing down on my helpless backside.<br />
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It hurt. It hurt a lot! She was spanking me with all her strength. I was crying like I was 12 years old again. Of course some of that was from the pain, but most of the tears were from the overwhelming emotional confusion I was experiencing. I was an adult and my mother was spanking me like she did when I was 12. It was too much for me to process and I was an emotional wreck.<br />
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She spanked long and hard and I struggled and cried out and begged her to stop with every blow. She held me tight in place and I was surprised at how strong she was, even stronger than my wife. She continued to spank me until I found that I had lost all resistance and was reduced to a sobbing, crying mess before the spanking finally stopped.<br />
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I laid over her knees crying myself out and I was exhausted. I heard the door open and my wife and father came in. I shuddered at the thought at what I must look like as they came into the room.<br />
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I heard my wife's voice, "Well, it looks like he finally came home. He must have just gotten here if you just finished spanking him He is not in the corner yet."<br />
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"Well," my mother started, "it took a little convincing to get him over my knee. I have been letting him cry it out over my knee. Do you want him in the corner?"<br />
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"No," my wife replied, "when he is ready to face me he can get up."<br />
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I took a deep breath and tried to regain my composure. The sooner I faced my wife, the sooner the ordeal would be over. I choked out between sobs, "OK. I'm ready."<br />
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My mother unlocked my legs from hers and I felt her arm guiding me up off my lap. I wanted to reach for my pants and briefs, but instinctively knew I should leave them at my ankles until I received specific permission to pull them up.<br />
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As I stood and faced my wife my heart practically leaped out of my chest and I felt a wave of electricity shoot through my body. My father was standing right behind my wife and the look on his face showed so much disappointment I could not bear to look him in the eyes. <br />
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After all these years of being spanked by my wife, the childhood spanking I received from my mother and the fear of being spanked in front of Sarah, I never could have imagined how much shame and embarrassment I would feel when standing in front of my father with my pants and briefs at my ankles with my freshly spanked bottom on display. Being seen as weak and wimpy in front of another man was more painful than I would have thought. <br />
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I apologize to my wife as my mother and father get ready to leave my father walks up to me and as I look down down to my pants and briefs at my ankles my father just says to me. "You just better grow up and grow up fast! This childish crap had better stop. Your child needs a father who is a man and I hope to God for your sake this is the last time someone needs to beat your backside."<br />
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With that fresh tears started down my cheeks. That hurt more than the spanking, to know my father did not yet see me as a man. <br />
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After they left, my wife did make me stand in the corner with my nose to the wall. Eventually I heard her crying. I pleaded from the corner to let me come and comfort her. She agreed. I shuffled over to her, pants at my ankles and gave her a hug and kiss. We eventually went to be where she laid on her side and I gave her a deep back massage to relieve her aching back. <br />
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I promised never to storm out on her again. God help me. I want to be a man. My child deserves a good hearted man for a father and I will bust my ass to become one. <br />
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rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-83120826856799802682015-03-21T04:15:00.002-07:002015-03-21T04:15:49.983-07:00Chapter Two.You are reading what I feel will be the last post to this blog. One of my teachers once told me, you may think that the story you are writing will go on forever, but someday you will find that you want to close a chapter of your life and start a new one. This does not erase the story that went before, merely starts a new chapter, a new beginning. When the time comes to close a chapter and start a new one you will be ready and exited about that new chapter so do not fear it but embrace it. He was so right. And now I find myself ready to close a chapter of my life and start a new one. But first, some background. <br />
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I finally have an explanation to the mysterious behavior back in December with all the bare bottom warnings and the intense effort to fix my behavior. I actually had my answer in January and had been holding off disclosing it to the blogosphere, even though I was anonymous, until we were absolutely sure what was going on.<br />
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First off, it looks like my spanking days may finally be over once and for all. My wife has actually said so. She hopes that I will rise to the occasion and that spanking are no longer necessary. I hope she is right.<br />
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So like I said, I actually knew about this in January but have been holding off sharing it and I did decide to share one more story before I closed this chapter of my life and that was a story about an early childhood spanking I received from my mother. <br />
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You see in January, I began giving serious thought about the spankings of my childhood and how they paralleled with the spankings I was receiving as an adult from my wife. There was definitely a strong correlation between the two. The spankings I was getting from my wife, seemed similar to the spankings I got from my mother. <br />
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My wife and I began to have an honest discussion about spanking. About spanking me and of spanking children. About the spankings I received as a child and the spanking she received as a child. It was during that discussion that I became aware that it was my mother who was encouraging and coaching my wife to spank me, not Sarah. It was also my mother who made the suggestion that we are entering a stage in our marriage where she feels the spanking should stop.<br />
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We had a discussion about how spanking attitudes have changed and are no longer considered viable options for disciplining children. Oh sure I can make the I was spanked and turned out fine argument, but society does not agree. So my mother suggested it would not be appropriate for the spankings to continue with me. I did ask if that meant I could go back to boxers and she said, absolutely not. One has nothing to do with the other. Oh well. <br />
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So what is the big secret? Why all the drama? Well let's just say that next September when we hopefully welcome our own healthy new child into the world, that child we never know they pain of having his or her pants pulled down and getting spanked in front of another child. <br />
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So given that my wife and I are entering a new phase of our life. I have decided to end this blog and take on my new responsibilities as a father. I just hope that all the spankings I received until now have prepared me for this most important job.<br />
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I know many of my readers were hanging on for that fateful day when my wife would once and for all spank me in front of Sarah. I must admit I thought about writing a fictitious account of it as I imagined it would happen, but decided against it. Quite honestly, with all the doctor's appointments and preparing for the new arrival, I just don't have the time. <br />
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I will make one quick comment however. Seeing what my wife has to go through at the obstetrician did make me realize that my doctor's appointments are a piece of cake. <br />
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Thanks for being loyal readers and good bye. I will look for and try to respond to any comments that you may wish to share, but as for new posts? I think I am ready to close this chapter and if and when I write a new chapter, well, we shall see. I reserve the right to change my mind as nothing in this world is permanent, but for now. It looks like Chapter 1 is done. <br />
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Chapter Two...rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-58182717557111045452015-03-01T16:24:00.000-08:002015-03-01T16:24:29.855-08:00Suffer the Children Part 2<i>This is part 2 of a story about a spanking I received when I was 7 years old. If you have not read part 1 I suggest you read part 1 first to decide if you are comfortable reading this part. As I am relating a story that happened to me as a child with enough detail to help readers understand how it may be impacting me as an adult. While there is no overt sexual content in this story, I realize some may be uncomfortable with these types of stories in an adult content blog. </i><br />
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<i>One final note. My mother was clearly a strict disciplinarian, but please take into consideration that I am relating a story about a spanking I received from her and I want to be clear that this is not the only memory or image I have of her. She was a loving, caring mother who was always there for me. I was spanked until I was 12, but please don't take this to mean that I was spanked frequently, constantly and brutally. In fact the exact opposite is true. I was spanked but they were infrequent and hardly brutal. For me it was more the emotional pain and humiliation that made these spanking memorable and not the physical punishment. Also consider the fact that I came from a time when the spanking of children in a loving, non abusive way was common and the norm. I feel that all of the spankings I received as a child were well deserved and fairly administered. This one included. </i><br />
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So there was the situation. My mother rising from her chair, Jill standing in the doorway and me retreating backwards, shaking and trembling knowing what was coming. <br />
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The threat I had received earlier was ringing in my ears, "do it again and your pants are coming down." And like I said, my mother did not make empty threats. If she said my pants were coming down there was no doubt that my pants were coming down. I knew I was going to get spanked and that my shorts would be coming down. The only things I could hope for at this point was that either I would be allowed to keep my underpants up or that she would take me someplace private. Since those specific things were not included in the threat I figured they remained negotiable. I hoped for and was prepared to plea for the latter. A spanking in private would be much better than one right here in the kitchen in front of Jill and her mother. <br />
<br />
My mother grabbed me with one arm and with the other pulled the chair away from the table so I already knew her intention was to spank me right there in the kitchen. Since she was setting up a chair it also was clear she intended to sit and pull me over her lap. Even at 7 I found that a much more humiliating position than the standing position I was in when she administered the few slaps earlier. Over the knee was definitely a more humiliating spanking position and also usually meant a longer and more formal spanking than the 3 or 4 warning smacks I got earlier. <br />
<br />
As much as I hated to be seeing begging and pleading for mercy in front of Jill, I figured I had no choice and the begging started almost immediately.<br />
<br />
"No mommy, don't do it here, let's go someplace private." <br />
<br />
My pleas yielded no response and she continued to sit down and pulled me so I was standing close to her. I offered little to no physical resistance. I may have been stupid, but even I was not that stupid. I was only 7, just a few years out of being a baby. She could have easily overpowered me so there was no point in fighting. No the only real option was begging for mercy.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, as I became more desperate the begging became more humiliating as I was forced to acknowledge my situation, "No mommy, please mommy no, don't spank me in front of Jill, can we go to the bathroom or something?"<br />
<br />
Again, no response, and this was typical of my mother. She tended not to acknowledge my pleas. She had made her ruling and passed sentence. The trial was over. I realized even then as much as I do today, that my chance for clemency was after the first little mini-spanking. The warnings were clear and I knew the consequences. I had no right at that point to ask for any mercy after ignoring the many opportunities I was given to behave properly. Like I said, stupid. <br />
<br />
As she stood me in front of her, she immediately began tugging down my shorts in response to the clear warning I had been given that my pants would be coming down if I batted her pocket book again. I failed to heed the warning so there I was pants being rapidly pulled down to my knees. I knew there was no point in pleading to not have my pants pulled down. That was specifically part of the warning I had received so I knew they would be coming down and that no amount of begging or pleading would help.<br />
<br />
But, when she returned to the waistband of my briefs, I really began the pleas for mercy, "No mommy, please let me keep my underpants up!" Tears were already streaking down my cheeks and I was shaking uncontrollably with fear and humiliation. Her hands were at the waistband and so were mine as I pleading, "No mommy, please, don't pull my underpants down. Please mommy."<br />
<br />
Much to my surprise, she left my underpants up and pulled me over her lap. I was only slightly relieved before her hand came down on my underpants. "OW! Mommy! STOP!" I kicked, screamed, cried and pleaded for mercy. It was a fairly stern spanking, but it was quick, perhaps a 12 or so spanks, I really did not count and if I did, I don't remember, but it was around 12 or so slaps. I do remember crying uncontrollably. <br />
<br />
As soon as she let me up off her lap I reached down to pick up my shorts, but she quickly stopped me. She forced me to look at her and said, "Now, I want to be absolutely clear on this. If I have to spank you again your pants and underpants will be coming OFF! Am I clear."<br />
<br />
I nodded my head yes, eager to pick up my shorts, but my mother wanted to make sure I understood her.<br />
<br />
"I want you to repeat to me what I just said," she demanded.<br />
<br />
I choked back a tear and between gasps of breath and sobs I managed to repeat her as best I could, "If..," sob, "you have to...," sniff, "sp.. sp.. spank me," sniff, "again," sob, "then", sniff, "my p..p..pants," sob, "and..", sniff, "underpants," sniff, "come off." <br />
<br />
"OK, go sit in the other room until it is time to go."<br />
<br />
I grabbed my shorts and yanked them back up and slowly walked to the living room and sat down. After a few minutes Jill came into the room and sat down on a chair away from where I was sitting. I actually expected her to start teasing me, but much to my relief she was silent. She seemed as uncomfortable with what happened as I did. Well almost as uncomfortable as I was the one who had his pants pulled down in front of a girl and that was something I would never forget and part of the reason I am terrified of being spanked in front of Sarah.<br />
<br />
You see at the time, right or wrong, I thought of girls as weaker than boys. Boys played in mud, girls had tea parties. Boys played sports and girls played with dolls. Girls cried and boys had to suck it up. It was just they way we thought back then. So the thought that a girl got to see my underwear was bad, even though back then it was not specifically about tighty whities, because that is what all boys wore back then. It was simply that girls should not see boys in their underpants. <br />
<br />
It was fine for boys to see girls panties, after all, a lot of times they wore dresses even when at the playground and we frequently got to see their panties all the time as they ran, jumped and played. So we just assumed that was what was expected. It was OK to see a girls panties, after all they were just girls and had to wear short little dresses. If we saw their panties that was no big deal, but boys wore pants, or at least shorts and girls should never be allowed to see their underpants. That was they way we thought.<br />
<br />
So on top of that, the thought that my underpants might be pulled down in front of her was unthinkable. It was not about her seeing my penis per say. At that age I was still very naive and did not think about my parts in and of themselves. It was not that I was embarrassed to let a girl see my penis, because at that age, I still did not even realize that boys and girls were built differently down there. I know by today's enlightened standards that seems unbelievable, but it was a more innocent time and parents did not freely offer such details. So as far as I knew at the time, Jill had a penis too and that was not what made boys and girls different. No, at that age it was different.<br />
<br />
Today as an adult, I am of course very self-conscious about my penis size and the implications of it with a woman who may find me less of a man in comparison to others she may have seen. That was not the case as a child with Jill. No, it was just the fact that I was exposed to her when I knew it was wrong to let a girl see your private parts and that was as much a concern with her seeing my backside as it would be to let her see my penis. A very different feeling than from today where if and only if I had no choice, I would rather let a strange woman see my butt then my groin. <br />
<br />
Now at 7, I knew it would be wrong to look at a girls private parts, so my previous statements about seeing girls panties did not extend to seeing there private parts, hence my naivete about believing they too had penises. Perhaps this is the reason my mother allowed me to keep my underpants up for the spanking. Allowing Jill to see my underpants took me down a notch to at least where I lost the privileged of not having my undies exposed by a short dress like a girl would, but short of having my private parts exposed which would have been wrong. <br />
<br />
Nonetheless, it was enough to leave me in a state of shock and questioning what it really meant to be a boy. My mother had pulled down my pants in front of a girl. She allowed a girl to see my underpants. I did not think that was allowed. If that wasn't bad enough, she had threatened to pull down my underpants if I didn't stop misbehaving. Actually, her exact words were she would take them off. Not sure if she meant that verbatim at the time of just made a slip in her anger. Either way, I had learned my lesson. I was not about to find out what she meant and was not going to do anything to risk getting another spanking while I was there. <br />
<br />
Jill was silent too. Perhaps she was as surprised as me that my mother pulled down my pants in front of her? Either way, the two of us sat quietly opposite each other in the living room mindlessly watching TV until my mother finally announced it was time to go. The thoughts of that event haunt me even today. <br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-66952400876950742262015-02-15T04:09:00.001-08:002015-02-15T04:09:34.459-08:00Suffer the Children Part 1<i>So as I have been alluding to in my previous post as well as the comments section, I decided to relate a story of a spanking I received as a child. I will be relating this in two parts. If after the this part you feel this is not something you want to read, just skip this and the second part that will follow. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
Kids are stupid. It doesn't make them bad or evil or unlovable, but the truth is the truth. Kids are stupid. How do I know? Well for starters I was a kid once and as I look back on my childhood I can't help but cringe at myself when I realize just how stupid I was. I was not a dumb kid in fact I was a relatively bright and smart and did well in school and all that, but that did not change the fact that I was just stupid. I could fill a book with all the stupid things that I have done but there was one particular stupid thing that I did that this story is about and that happened when I was 7 years old. <br />
<br />
My mother and I were visiting one of her friends, a friend who had a 10 year old daughter. Now when you are 7 years old, you are not mature enough to consider the fact that your mother has a life outside of you. Yes, she is your mother and she will always do the best she can for you, but she is entitled to have a life apart from you. She is entitled to have adult friends and to want to spend time with them. <br />
<br />
Now at 7 I did not appreciate my mother's right to have adults friends. Now that I am an adult and look back on it, I respect and appreciate the fact that my mother was able to have close friendships with other adults. I get that now, but as an adult you would think that my mother would have realized that just because she was friends with someone doesn't automatically mean that I am friends with that friend's child. <br />
<br />
So here I was at the house of one of my mother's friends and I am expected to play with her 10 year old daughter. Not because we are friends, not because we have a common interest, but for no other reason except that she's the daughter of my mother's friend. So instead of playing together I sat there at the kitchen table with my mother and her friend bored out of my skull. After all, this was back in the days when we did not have all kinds of portable electronic devices to keep kids occupied. All there was was a single TV set and the daughter already had that tied up with one of her stupid programs. <br />
<br />
Being a typical 7 year old, I of course kept asking the eternal question that all 7 year olds ask when they are bored, "When are we leaving?"<br />
<br />
My mother, growing every more impatient just kept telling me to hush up and to go play with..., well let's see we need to give her a name for the story, let's call her Jill,<br />
<br />
"The adults are talking, go and play with Jill!", not her exact words as it was a long time ago, but that was essentially the tone of what she was saying. <br />
<br />
I walked from the kitchen to the living-room where Jill was watching TV, sat on the couch for all of 2 second then decided that I waited long enough and went back to the kitchen to repeat my inquisition. <br />
"Can we go now?", I whined<br />
<br />
"Stop it child!" my mother admonished and told me to stop being annoying. <br />
<br />
Well, I am not stupid, or so I thought at the time, and realized that constantly asking to leave was not a strategy worth pursuing, so I resorted to batting her pocket book which was slung over the back of the kitchen chair. I kind of started swinging it like it was a tether ball. It would keep bouncing off the chair and swing back and I would push it again so it was push, thump, push, thump as the speed and frequency picked up as it continued to smack the back of my mothers chair. <br />
<br />
She turned around, grabbed the bag and quickly told me to, "Knock it off! Stop being so annoying, go back and watch TV or play or something."<br />
<br />
Well I shuffled off again back to the living-room where Jill was, but this time I didn't bother to sit down, but instead just walked right back into the kitchen. Bored out of my skull, I was desperate to leave and when you are 7 years old and absolutely bored, you make 'poor choices.'<br />
<br />
Now, because for me this is such a strong part of my memory, I guess a few details are in order. It was summer, it was hot, I was 7 years old. It seems during this time the official summer uniform for a boy my age was a yellow tank top t-shirt with white trim, a pair of those really really short elastic gym shorts, green if I remember correctly, flip-flops and a pair of briefs. That was all I was wearing and it exposed a lot of skin. I remember it so vividly mostly because of this memory, but also because of pictures of me wearing that same outfit from vacation photos. <br />
<br />
Jill was wearing a pair of cutoff jean shorts that were longer than my gym shorts, although not by much and a regular t-shirt. I don't remember her clothes as much, but pretty sure that's what she was wearing. <br />
<br />
So anyway, I walked back into the kitchen and the whole process started all over again. "Can we go now?"<br />
<br />
"Enough, if you don't stop annoying us you are going to 'get it'" of course I should have known what 'get it' meant. After all I was only 7 years old. This was back in the days that when you are 7 years old there are not too many ways to 'get it'. At that time and date it really only meant a spanking. So of course, I stopped asking, but then went back to my game of pocket book tether ball. <br />
<br />
Well, Jill must have sensed something was about to happen because she walked into the room and opened the refrigerator to get herself something to drink. There I was with the pocket book again, push, thump against the back of the chair. Then, without any further warning it happened.<br />
<br />
Calmly I heard my mother say to her friend, "Excuse me a second." She stood up and I jumped back from the chair. I should not have been surprised. After all, the warning were numerous and clear. Any rational person would have adjusted their behavior, but of course I was a child and was stupid. I was motivated not by any rational decision, but my emotional desire to leave.<br />
<br />
My heart quickly began beating faster. I glanced quickly at Jill who was standing a mere 2 feet away then back to my mother. I quickly though to myself, 'she wouldn't spank me here with Jill in the room. Would she?'<br />
<br />
My answer was quick and swift. She grabbed my arm and lifted me up ever so slightly so that I was stretched on my toes and she deliver 3 or 4 quick sharp smacks to the seat of my shorts. I yelped at the blows, but they were quick and I really did not get the opportunity to cry or scream. It was over so quick. I was more humiliated by the display than I was hurt by the pain. <br />
<br />
I already wanted to crawl under a rock at the humiliation of being spanked in front of Jill, even if it was a quick show, but the real humiliation came when my mother grabbed my other arm, bent over slightly and strongly warned, "Now, the next time your pants will be coming down!"<br />
<br />
She let me go and I quietly walked back to the living-room and sat on the couch. A few minutes later Jill walked in and sat down on the couch next to me. I shuddered at the sudden proximity given what she had just witnessed and I shifted a little nervously, but otherwise remained on the couch.<br />
<br />
She was speaking quietly and softly, but obviously she had been intrigued by the show and could not help but start asking questions.<br />
<br />
"Sorry that happened to you. Do you get spanked a lot?"<br />
<br />
Well, I did not know what a lot meant. I certainly got my fair share of spankings but they were by no means 'a lot' so I quietly nodded no.<br />
<br />
"Did it hurt?"<br />
<br />
Well, it didn't so I quietly nodded no. Then the tough question came. I almost knew it was coming.<br />
<br />
"Do you really think your mother would pull your pants down if you did it again?"<br />
<br />
I knew my mother. I knew if I did it again my pants would absolutely come down. She doesn't make empty threats like that, but I just shrugged my shoulders in the 'I don't know gesture.'<br />
<br />
"Has she ever pulled your pants down for a spanking before?"<br />
<br />
Of course I could have just told her to leave me alone and stop asking me questions, but I didn't. I also didn't answer. She correctly took that as a yes.<br />
<br />
"I bet she pulls your pants down when she spanks you at home. You are lucky she did not pull your pants down this time."<br />
<br />
To that, for some reason I did nod yes. More to the fact that I was grateful she did not pull my pants down, but I guess I also acknowledged that she frequently did pull my pants down. In fact my mother pulled my pants down for spankings most of the time, although at 7 it was not like I had years of spanking history to go by. Looking back however, I was spanked until I was 12 and for most of those I had my pants pulled down. This was actually one of the few where I got to keep them up. <br />
<br />
"Don't worry," Jill reassured me, "lots of kids get spanked, its no big deal."<br />
<br />
I wasn't sure if that made me feel better or not. Was she admitting that she got spanked? Did she consider herself a little kid? Was that really meant to make me feel better or worse? Who knows?<br />
<br />
With that she went back to watching TV and I sat there on the couch sulking and being bored out of my mind again. <br />
<br />
Like I said in the beginning, kids are stupid, so about 15 minutes later I walk back into the kitchen. I stood there quietly listening trying to decide if the conversation was winding down. Then it started again like nothing ever happened.<br />
<br />
"Can we go now?"<br />
<br />
My mother turns to me, a little angry, "I suggest you just go sit back in the living room before you do something you will regret."<br />
<br />
She resumes her conversation. I stand there for a few seconds then to this day I still don't understand what I was thinking. I whack the pocket book again and then thump! It hits the back of the chair. At that moment Jill appears in the doorway to the kitchen as my mother rises from her chair.<br />
<br />
Like I said. Kids are stupid.<br />
<br />
To be continued...Maybe.<br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-79592170952535802742015-01-29T13:27:00.000-08:002015-01-29T13:27:52.819-08:00Laundry DayOnce again, I will start with an apology. No spankings or anal penetrations to report, so sorry for anyone who was hoping for any juicy news. <br />
<br />
Now that being said, I know I am going to take a lot of heat for this post as so many people have made it clear that they feel I am being utterly ridiculous about my obsession over my underpants, but I am who I am and I feel the way I feel.<br />
<br />
So what happened? In the grand scheme of things, absolutely nothing, but for me, something that left me feeling weird. It was Saturday and I was out and when I came home my wife and Sarah were in the living room chatting. I talked for a few minutes with them exchanging pleasantries, then excused my self as I was planning to take care of some chores outside the house. As I turned to leave I noticed that there was a laundry basket all nice and folded. It was a basket of whites. In other words, underwear, hers as well as mine. I was clearly able to spot my tighty whities in the basket, but that was because I knew they were there. <br />
<br />
As I left I became very self conscious of the fact that my tighty whities were sitting in the laundry basket in the same room as Sarah. Did Sarah notice? Was she there when my wife folded them? Did Sarah help fold them?<br />
<br />
I know many of you may feel I am being really stupid about this, but I felt a little weird and violated thinking that Sarah might have been handling my briefs. Now when she looks at me I feel she is imagining me in my briefs and laughing silently at me as she wonders why I am not wearing boxers. <br />
<br />
Perhaps it is just my imagination. Perhaps my wife is playing mind games with me again. Who knows? Anyway, it left me feeling funny, but just glad I have been able to keep my pants up for the last few weeks. I have been on my behavior so no spankings or other punishments. <br />
<br />
If it continues to remain quiet, I might consider taking the time to write about another memorable spanking from my past, but this one goes all the way back to when I was 7 years old, although I remember it like it was yesterday. Not sure if anyone really wants to hear it so I will have to think about it. What made it so memorable? Well it involved me, my mother one of my mother's friends and her 10 year old daughter. No I didn't do anything to or with the daughter, but she was there when something happened to me. Let's just say I was recalling it when I was contemplating the possibility of getting spanked in front of Sarah. I have been thinking about the incident, but have been reluctant to tell it. I will need to think about telling the story. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, but it may help to understand what events in my life may have led to me being the way I am. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-27592908163126137262015-01-18T05:06:00.001-08:002015-01-18T05:06:47.463-08:00Status QuoWell, just thought I would write a quick post to let everyone know that after a surprising end and subsequent start to the year, things seem to be settling down.<br />
<br />
The week of having my wife wash my bottom, followed by random inspections have stopped. Yes, it was a little embarrassing having to step out of the shower and report to my wife for inspection. It only took a few seconds where she would make me bend over slightly and she would spread my butt cheeks to insure I properly washed "back there" and then I was allowed to get dressed. I felt a little silly but that turned out to not be a big deal.<br />
<br />
I have not been sick, so I don't know what would happen if I was. I would have to presume at this point that since we did not come to a consensus on how to resolve the alleged anomaly with my oral temperatures, she would again take my temperature rectally. If and when I get sick again, I guess I will find out. <br />
<br />
So far, I have been on my best behavior and have not been spanked, I have not had to serve any bare bottom warnings or other "punishments." It is clear that I am still subject to spankings should my behavior warrant it. I have gone several weeks and even months in the past thinking that my spanking days were finally over only to suddenly find myself back over her knee, pants and briefs down. I would not be so arrogant to assume that my spanking days are over, but there has not been any escalation of frequency or severity. I am unfortunately sure that sooner or later I will slip up, but for now, so far so good.<br />
<br />
There has also has not been any sign or indication of any additional humiliations that she plans to subject me to. While I realize this may disappoint some of my readers, I have not been given any enemas, forced to wear panties, diapers, I have not been "taken anal", dildo-ed or had a strap on shoved in to me. While I realize this may disappoint many of my followers, I am sorry, but hope you decide to stick with me anyway. I know there are plenty of blogs out there that cater to these interests as I have looked into them myself wondering if that was where my life was headed. I am happy to report that at this time, that does not appear to be the case.<br />
<br />
So slowly, things seem to be returning to normal. Of course, I realize that that normal includes spankings, when warranted, rectal temperatures when sick and probably a resumption of supervised washing and inspections should my wife start to see any more stains on my underpants. <br />
<br />
It looks like I have returned to the status quo. At least for now. Again, sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping I would have something more humiliating to write about. If you at least check in every once and a while I promise to find the courage to write about any new humiliations that I may become subjected to.<br />
<br />
Thanks for sticking with me during this crazy roller coaster ride. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-90518204762638984802015-01-08T03:18:00.000-08:002015-01-08T03:18:50.253-08:00Skid MarksWell, we are off to a new year and while so far I have been spank free, the year has not gotten off to a good start. While of course the starting of a new year is an artificial milestone in that one day is the same as the next, we often times give it a lot of significance and use it as an excuse to restart our lives in many ways. It is quite the sight to see how much busier the health clubs and gyms are in January and knowing that come February half of those people will stop coming and life will return to normal. I have the same feeling myself. In some ways, January feels different with respect to how my wife has been spanking me. In someways it feels like the spankings are over and the slate has been wiped clean, but at the same time, she has been treating me differently. Things don't feel quite the same.<br />
<br />
I have already written about the nasty virus I got right at the start of the year and how my wife used that as an excuse to take my temperature rectally. That was not the first time she had taken my temperature rectally. In fact, the first time she took it rectally I was suffering from a severe stomach virus and was throwing up violently. When she came to take my temperature rectally I felt a warmth and respect for her because here I was in real bad physical shape. I was this gross pile of humanity and yet my wife was there by my side to take care of me, comfort me and even willing to take my temperature in a manner than exposed her to a sweaty, smelly part of my body. When she did it then I felt a strong affection, and while not quite an erotic experience for me, I did enjoy her taking my temperature that way at that time. <br />
<br />
Part of my feelings at the time was because while I know I certainly would have been there to support her, comfort her, clean up any puke that may have missed the bowl, bring her water, cool towels or anything I could have done to make her miserable illness more bearable, the thought of using a rectal thermometer to insure her temperature was not reaching dangerous levels and then being willing to insert a Ibuprofen suppository when it got too high would have never occurred to me and would have repulsed me if I did. I know, bad husband, but excrement does not excite me. Would I have done it if she asked me to? Yes, for better or worse in sickness or in health, I get that, but I would not have thought to do it on my own. <br />
<br />
I know many of my readers saw this incident as anal play or a continuing domination of my bottom by my wife. A violation of my backside if you will. At the time, I did not see it that way. It was medically necessary and I loved and respected my wife for her willingness to do it.<br />
<br />
So fast forward to my last illness. What was different? Well, for starters, I did not consider what she did as medically necessary. Oh sure she came up with this ridiculous excuse about the oral thermometer not working for me, but it works for her? How convenient. So I have to have my temperature taken in my bottom while she gets to take hers in her mouth. So did I test the thermometer like I said I would in my last post? Well, yes and sure enough it seems to get an accurate reading in warm water. I took the liberty of swirling some 100 degree water around my mouth and then taking my temperature with the oral thermometer and I did get 100 or so degrees. I don't know how she did it, but somehow I remain convinced that my wife tricked me into taking my temperature rectally that day.<br />
<br />
This changed the way I felt about the whole thing. When I was throwing up it felt reassuring to have my wife take care of med. Now, I tend to side with the those who felt this was just another way my wife was exerting control over me. It is clear now that that was her intention all along. The first temperature she took was when I was more likely to be receptive to it. Now, she has insisted that is the only way I should take my temperature. Well, now I feel violated. Clearly she has added one more thing to the list of things she subjects me to to make me feel weak and vulnerable to her. <br />
<br />
If I had any doubts that she was looking for an excuse to make me feel weak and exposed to her, after I got better I suggested that we purchase one of those ear thermometers if the oral did not work on me. She said she would 'consider' it, but since the rectal worked she saw no reason to spend $30 on a thermometer with questionable accuracy. I thought to myself, 'come on? Questionable accuracy?' Who cares if it is 101.3 or 101.7? We are not looking for absolute precision here, we just need to know if a fever is normal, low, medium or high. So I said, OK, well then perhaps next time we can just take it under my arm. You can use the same thermometer for that. She was a little more open to that idea, but still, the underlying intention was clear. I am sure there would be a reason why the underarm temperature was not acceptable. Hell, if someone were to give us a hospital grade ear thermometer I am sure she would find a reason why that was not acceptable (for me of course, everything is acceptable for her). So in spite of the fact that we live in a time when there are dozens of ways to take someones temperature, apparently the the only way that works for me is the one that requires me to have my pants pulled down and my bottom penetrated. <br />
<br />
Now if it was just the temperature taking incident, I would have been suspicious enough, but then there was another incident. I was just finishing up a shower when my wife can into the bathroom. Well, no big deal, we are married after all. Again, normally no issue with her seeing me in the nude. As I stood there drying off she bent down and picked up the pair of briefs that I had discarded on the floor. Now, I am pretty good about picking up my clothes. I usually take my underpants off in the bathroom and will pick them up and place them in the hamper when I am done showering, so that is not where this is going. <br />
<br />
I thought nothing of it figuring she was just being helpful. After all, she knows I always pick them up after I shower so I would not have expected her to yell at me for that. She starts speaking in a gentle tone,<br />
<br />
"Honey, I hate to embarrass you with this, but I have been meaning to ask you about something."<br />
<br />
I look at her puzzled. What does she want to talk about that could not wait until I was dressed?<br />
<br />
She holds up my underpants and shows me the stain in them. I don't want to get too gross, but I think you know what I am talking about. I thought to myself 'skid marks?' Not to be too cavalier about it, but I think to myself, So what? Nobody's perfect. I am sure there are marks on her panties. Besides, I thought that was exactly the reason she insisted I wear briefs. She had claimed that they were more hygienic in that they contained these kinds of mishaps better than boxers and were easily bleached. I wasn't sure what her concern was. <br />
<br />
I looked at her confused and all I could say was "What?"<br />
<br />
"Well, I don't want to embarrass you, but these are the brand new ones I got for Christmas. I mean I understand that sometimes things happen, but for you it looks like you never wipe properly and I am not so sure you even wash back there properly."<br />
<br />
I was hurt. I was so tempted to go to the hamper and start pulling out all her panties. I mean I help with the laundry and no offense ladies, but lets face it, you are always leaking and oozing something from your three holes that it is impossible for your panties not to get stained. That is the reason we wear underpants is it not? To deal with the faults of the human body and keep our clothes clean. I was about to start to argue with her but she beat me to the punch.<br />
<br />
"I know this embarrasses you but I don't think you are washing properly." She picks up a washcloth rinses it under some water from the sink, wrings it out and hands it to me. "Here, wipe your bottom with this for me." <br />
<br />
I stared at her in disbelief. What was this all about. But I figured it was best just to get it over with so I ran the warm cloth through my butt cheek and much to my disgust and surprise it came out streaked with brown. I must admit I myself was a bit appalled. I never would have thought my bottom could have still been soiled like that after I just got out of the shower. <br />
<br />
She spoke again, "Not only did I notice your underpants, but I have seen stains like that on the towel. You must dry your bottom with it when you come out of the shower."<br />
<br />
I was so mortified for being called out on this lapse in my hygiene. I truly did not realize it. I did not know what to say. Now if this was simply a wife discussing an honest, even if a difficult, topic with her husband, that would have been the end of it. I would have accepted her criticism for what it was, the pointing out of something I needed to be made aware of so that I could fix it, but it did not end there.<br />
<br />
She told me to get back into the shower, which I did. She rinsed out the washcloth under the shower head, soaped up the washcloth then ordered me to turn around. <br />
<br />
I realized she intended to wash me herself and felt a little bit embarrassed about it so I said, "I can do this myself."<br />
<br />
She snapped back firmly, "obviously you can't do this yourself that is why I we had to have this discussion, now turn around."<br />
<br />
All of a sudden I became very self conscious of the fact that I was naked in the shower, my wife fully clothed and I was being ordered to turn around so she could wash my bottom. I felt so ridiculous. So humiliated. I squeaked back, "I can do it. I just did not realize it before. Now that you brought it to me attention I will be more careful."<br />
<br />
"Turn around!", she replied very firmly. She was not yelling, but she said it forcefully enough that I immediately turned around in fear. It was that same forcefulness I have seen in her when she is ordering me to drop my pants or bend over for a spanking. <br />
<br />
I felt her spread my cheeks wide and felt the soapy washcloth work its way deep between my cheeks. She scrubbed it well from the base of my spine all the way to my scrotum. I felt so helpless and ashamed that my wife had to wash out my bottom like I was a baby or an invalid. She stopped with the washcloth then pushed and pulled me into position under the shower to make sure I was well rinsed off. She parted my cheeks to help get the water to reach all the spot it needed to reach. After a few minutes she shut the water off and told me I could dry up and get dressed. <br />
<br />
She left the bathroom and I humbly dried off and got dressed. I came out of the bathroom to find her sitting on the bed. She looked at me and simply said, "For the next few days, I will be supervising your shower to make sure you are washing yourself properly. I am sorry I have to do this, but it is clear you either never learned to properly keep yourself clean or you learned, but then failed to keep up with it. Either way, I want your hygiene to improve, so I will be washing you myself for the next day or two. After that I will be supervising you to make sure you are doing it properly. After that, I will perform spot inspections to make sure you have not lapsed. I hope we can develop better habits in you."<br />
<br />
I just did not know how to feel about this. Once again she found what appeared to be a perfectly legitimate reason to expose my bottom to her. I mean we have been married for several years and all of a sudden she decides that I have not been practicing good hygiene? So even if it was true and she finally had enough of it, why not just tell me the difficult truth and ask me to be more aware of my poor habits and work to improve them. <br />
<br />
She then stood up again and went to dresser and picked up a box I did not notice before. It was a box of wet wipes. She then said, "Keep these in the bathroom. After you have wiped yourself use one of these to make sure you are really clean down there." <br />
<br />
My heart began beating faster as I had assumed she intended to also supervise my wiping but she continued, "I really don't want to have to wipe your bottom for you so I am going to trust you to do this yourself. I will be keeping an eye on your underpants in the laundry to see if the problem continues."<br />
<br />
Well, at least she has her limits. But here we are again. Another excuse to keep my bottom exposed. And while it is a minor thing, now she has made me self conscious that she will be inspecting my underpants. So I am in constant awareness of my backside and her control of it. This is what many of my readers had warned me about. <br />
<br />
So far, everything has been gentle and on the pretense of taking care of me. There has been an excuse as to why she has to do what she is doing. My heart pounds as I think of some of the warnings that I had received in my comments. I am not sure where this is going but for now I will wait and see. <br />
<br />
Emotionally I have been feeling very strange. In the past, the spankings were few and far between with a normal life in between. Oh sure there have times when I was spanked within days of each other or had to stay in the guest room for a day or two, but even that was short lived. Now here it has been over a month and my pants have been coming day every day or two, my temperature was taken rectally for a few days and now my wife is washing my butt like I was a 2 year old. The attention my backside has been getting from her has been nearly constant and constant enough that it has been preoccupying my thoughts. I am living in a constant state of awareness of my backside and on edge waiting for the next reason my wife will use to bare my bottom. All this without a single spanking in over 8 weeks. <br />
<br />
In my comments someone asked if my wife and I have been having sex. The answer has been no and not entirely by her decision. Since all this has been happening I have found it difficult to get aroused around my wife. I have been experiencing these feelings of inadequacy and inferiority that have not left me "in the mood." After one session of bare bottom time I went to the bathroom and was actually embarrassed by my own pathetic penis all shriveled up from the shame of being constantly exposed to my wife. I know this turns on a lot of my readers, but I always enjoyed a feeling of equality in love making with my wife. Now forget about love making, I don't feel a sense of equality with my wife in anything anymore. The whole time she has been baring my bottom, taking my temperature, etc., I have not seen her undressed or even in her underwear at all. <br />
<br />
Yes so far 2015 has been off to a very emotionally draining start. I know there is a lot of speculation from my readers as to where this is heading, but for now. I think I am just going to wait and see and hope this ends soon and things get back to "normal" even if that means the occasional spanking. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-12120183993723156892015-01-05T03:32:00.000-08:002015-01-05T03:32:40.184-08:00Roll OverWell, I guess with all the running around, late nights and other activities that go with the holidays I ended up coming down with a rather nasty virus. I woke up on the Friday after New Years with a sore throat, aches, chills and that nasty can't stay awake felling. After a while I went back up to bed. Later my wife came in with a pitcher of water and told me it was important for me to drink a lot to stay hydrated. She felt my head and told me I felt really hot and she was going to take my temperature. She then went into the bathroom where we keep the thermometers. <br />
<br />
To my surprise she came back with the rectal thermometer and a jar of Vaseline instead of the oral thermometer. Now if you recall from earlier posts, there was a time awhile back when I had a stomach virus and was throwing up and she took my temperature rectally. I actually found that time to be a good feeling, but given how our December went, I was very protective of my bottom and did not enjoy the constant attention my backside was getting from her and was in no mood to have my temperature taken that way so I spoke up.<br />
<br />
"Honey, I don't need my temperature taken that way. I am not throwing up. Go back and get the oral thermometer."<br />
<br />
She simply dismissed my request and said, "I think it would be better if I take it this way." She then pulled back the sheets and blankets and asked me to "roll over onto your stomach."<br />
<br />
Again, I was in no mood and replied, "You are not going to take my temperature that way. I will go get the oral thermometer." and started to get out of bed.<br />
<br />
She gently guided me back down onto the bed and softly began, "look honey, its no big deal and I will be gentle but I really think it would be better if I take your temperature this way, so roll over and relax."<br />
<br />
Now I was starting to get a little annoyed. Here I was sick as a dog and she just can't let it go and wants another excuse to pull my pants down and dominate my bottom. I stared at the thermometer and the jar of Vaseline on the end table with a strange tingling from the thought that she wanted to violate me with it. I was not having it. <br />
<br />
I sat up in bed and looked her straight in the eye and as assertive as I could I said, "Look I am not a little boy. I am not having my temperature taken that way. I am sick and in no mood for your games. If you don't want to get me the oral thermometer than just leave me alone and let me sleep." I started to cough from the speech I had just given. <br />
<br />
My wife placed her hand on my forehead and then on my back and declared, "You are really warm. I really want to take your temperature and I am sorry you feel the way you do about the rectal thermometer, but honey, for some reason, you never seem to get an accurate reading from the oral one."<br />
<br />
I looked at her confused and asked "What do you mean by that?" <br />
<br />
"Well, I couldn't help but notice that every-time you take your temperature orally it come sup around 97 degrees. That can't be right."<br />
<br />
"Well, you know normal doesn't have to be exactly 98.6 you know,"<br />
<br />
"Yes, I know that, but the day you had the stomach virus. You felt really warm to me and when you took your temperature it was 97.5. An hour later when you were throwing up and let me take it rectally it was almost 102."<br />
<br />
"So what?" I said, "it probably was just higher then. Besides, you took my temperature orally after I stopped throwing up and said it was 100."<br />
<br />
She looked down slightly and replied, "Actually it was only 98. I just said it was 100 because you still felt warm to me. I suspected if I took it rectally again it would have been 100, I just didn't want to subject you to another rectal temperature. I figured you were getting better and that was all that mattered."<br />
<br />
To tell you the truth, I did not believe her. "You are such a liar.", I accused her.<br />
<br />
She looked at me with concern and said, "Look, you are clearly running a fever. If I take your temperature orally and it come up less than 99 will you let me take it rectally?"<br />
<br />
I looked back at her and feeling the way I felt, she was right. There was no way I was not running a fever. I had not yet drank any of the water she brought up so as I swirled warm saliva around my mouth I figured she had a deal. She went and got the oral thermometer and I heard her washing it and then she came and as she placed it in my mouth she warned me to make sure it was under my tongue and that I kept my mouth closed if we were to get an accurate reading. Now I did my best to keep it under my tongue but I was having trouble breathing through my nose with the congestion and I was coughing a bit, but still, I did not see any reason why we would not get an accurate reading. After about 30 seconds, the thermometer beeped, she took it out and immediately showed it to me. It was reading 98.3. <br />
<br />
I stared at it in disbelief. There is no way that the thermometer can be off that much just because of me. Perhaps the thermometer was broken. It could not be my mouth that did not work. <br />
<br />
She replied, "I take my temperature with this all the time. When I have a fever I get a reading and my normal seems to be closer to 98,6. Your normal is 97 and when I see 98 or 99 for you your actual temperature is probably much higher."<br />
<br />
I still sat there shocked in disbelief. "I don't care," I pouted, "I don't want my temperature taken that way. This must be some trick of your because you just want to pull my pants down and stick that thing in me."<br />
<br />
I mean think about it. This had to be a scheme on her part. What would be the odds of having a wife who just finished a month of using every excuse to bare her husband's bottom all of a sudden have a husband who has a freaky mouth that oral thermometers don't work on? It was clearly a trick on her part. I figured she probably brought the water up figuring I would drink it before she took my temperature and not realize I did so that my temperature would be low. But I did not drink the water. Perhaps my temperature really wasn't that high. I mean if she took it rectally and got 100 she would be like, 'see I told you', but rectal runs about a degree higher anyway. <br />
<br />
She replied, "Look, I am worried. You look pretty sick. It is dangerous for adults to let their fevers get too high. I just don't think I get an accurate reading from the oral thermometer. You told me if we got a reading of less than 99 you would let me take it rectally. I know you are embarrassed from all the bare bottom warnings you got last month and associate this with punishment but come on. Given all the times I pulled your pants down, what is the big deal with this?"<br />
<br />
She was clearly playing a psychological game with me and she was wining. My eyes started to water up and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. "I don't want to be treated like a little boy anymore." I practically cried. I was angry with myself. I was being assertive and standing my ground but she once again broke me and had me begging her to leave my bottom alone, only this time it was from the thermometer and not the hairbrush or belt. "Please honey, I don't want my temperature taken that way,"<br />
<br />
She just looked at me and said, "We had a deal. If the oral reported 99 or less you were going to let me take it rectally. If the rectal come back less than 100 I promise never to take your rectal temperature again."<br />
<br />
I replied back, "Well rectal usually runs about a degree higher."<br />
<br />
"Yes," she replied, "we got 98.3 orally. So if we get over 100 rectally that is more than a degree and a half higher. I am not trying to embarrass you. I just think there is an issue with you and oral temperatures that's all."<br />
<br />
I still did not believe her but I suppose I did make this deal with her. God help her if I find out she has a trick thermometer or something. I reluctantly roll over onto my stomach and without any further discussion she pulls my sweatpants and underpants down to my knees. I watch as she turns the thermometer on dips it into the Vaseline and then gently spreads my cheeks. I feel a slight chill as the cold air hits my backside and flinch as I feel the slippery tip of the thermometer touch my butt hole. I take a deep breath as she gently inserts the thermometer. I can't believe she manipulated me into this. I hated her for this. <br />
<br />
I laid there sulking, her hand resting on my backside gently holding the thermometer. After a few seconds the thermometer beeps and she immediately pulls it out and shows it to me before she even looks at it herself. I stare in horror at the greasy probe slightly brown tinged and think about where it had just come from as I feel the slight slipperiness between my cheeks confirming the recent violation of my bottom by the thermometer. As if that was not horrible enough, there on the display was a whopping 101.2 temperature being displayed. I could not believe it. There had to be something wrong with that oral thermometer. There had to be. <br />
<br />
"Well?", she asked seeing the look of surprise on my face.<br />
<br />
"It's 101.2." I reply softly.<br />
<br />
My wife looks at it herself then takes a tissue to wipe off the grease. "I am so sorry honey," she starts in a soft and consoling voice. "I don't know why but I get the impression oral thermometers just don't get accurate temperatures on you."<br />
<br />
"Well, that thermometer must be defective. You tricked me to get my pants down again."<br />
<br />
"Honey, after last month, do you think I need to trick you to get your pants down? If I wanted your pants down I would simply pull them down. Look, when you are feeling better you can experiment with this thermometer. You can run some hot tap water and compare reading between this thermometer and the kitchen thermometer. In fact I already did this when I was wondering why your oral reading was way off. I can buy another thermometer, but I just think there is an issue with you and oral temperatures."<br />
<br />
Now the whole time she was lecturing I was still laying there with my pants and underpants around my knees. I felt so stupid. I should have pulled them up the second the thermometer came out but I laid there waiting for permission to get dressed and it was not quick in coming.<br />
<br />
I know strange things can happen but come on, she spends the month of December pulling my pants down at the drop of a hat with the promise that it was to decrease the amount of spankings I get in 2015 and here we are, not even 2 days into the new year and she found a non-spanking excuse to get my pants down and shove a thermometer up my bottom. Oh don't worry I will be checking that thermometer out when I get better. There is no way my mouth is defective.<br />
<br />
Anyway, after a while she tells me she is going to get some Advil to help lower my temperature. When she leaves I take the opportunity to finally pull my pants up. She comes in gives me the medicine, kisses me on the head, tells me to drink plenty of liquids and get some rest. After a while I finally close my eyes and get some sleep. <br />
<br />
The whole time I was sick she took my temperature both orally and rectally and recorded the results. Every time, the oral reading was way off. The oral never got above 99 and never got below 97 no matter what my rectal temperature was, which was as high as 101.8 at one point and as low as 98.1 when I was eventually over this completely. I have yet to test the oral thermometer on a glass of water of know temperature but there is no way that thermometer is not broken. I am sure my wife knew that and planned this whole thing out as an excuse to keep my pants at my knees as much as possible. <br />
<br />
Now that I am back to normal, I am sure she will soon come up with another reason to bare my bottom. Only time will tell, but now I am on edge wondering when and where that will be. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-7421810601257769552014-12-31T04:08:00.000-08:002014-12-31T04:08:49.046-08:00One Good Comment Deserves a PostIn my last post I received a rather interesting comment from a "Rob" who asked some very poignant questions. <br />
<br />
I repeat his comment here;<br />
<br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;">Honestly the bigger part of me wonders if this blog is the work of a fantasist for a few reasons, but taking it at face value i think it presents a moral dilemma and thought experiment in any case, so I'll indulge it for a moment.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;">I don't understand people's comments saying the discipline is 'working'. If it's working, why are you whining about it online (and why hasn't she caught you blogging, yet)? Hand on heart, do you see benefits from it or not? Is it achieving the ends she claims to have in mind, or not? If not, why is she so myopic as to not see that? Do you doubt the purity of her motive? If it is working (making you behave better), what, really, lies at the root of your complaint? Because it goes against societal norms? Because the punishment doesn't fit the crime? Because being an adult places you above the indignity of certain punishments? Because you believe in an egalitarian relationship?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;">You seem too well-spoken to be a poor introspector, but you don't seem to be reaching out for help so much as regaling perverts like myself with lurid stories of your wife's latest disciplinary action. If you really want help, then go deeper into what the problem is. Although you're only going to get slanted advice from a slanted audience. For what it's worth, your relationship sounds well-meant but misguided at best (simply by virtue of this blog's existence) and abusive at worst, and that's coming from someone who believes in DD as a viable relationship model.</span></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px; text-align: justify;">-Rob</span> </i><br />
<br />
I was about to reply to this comment when I thought that perhaps these complex questions deserved their own post, so here they are for everyone, but I will be speaking to Rob.<br />
<br />
You are right to remain skeptical of what you read on the internet as I myself am when I am reading other blogs to see if there is anyone in a similar situation as myself. Some of the stuff that I read online is so unbelievable but then I look at my own situation and then I begin to wonder. Sometime truth is stranger than fiction and sometimes I read bonafide news stories that are so bizarre that I no longer know what to believe.<br />
<br />
That said, I want to thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt and responding to me on the assumption that I am on the level and you did ask some difficult questions. <br />
<br />
Why am I whining about it? Well, I never considered what I was doing as whining so not sure how to answer that one. I knew long before I even started this blog that I had "accepted" my wife's discipline. Oh sure, I relived some of the struggles I had about divorce, pressing charges, leaving her, resisting. To be honest now, I had gone through all those emotions before I even started the blog. I came to the conclusion that I loved my wife and was willing to submit to her even if I did not enjoy it. But I do not enjoy it. As I struggled with this I became aware that there are many who do enjoy it. A part of me was curious as to why they enjoyed it. Writing this blog and venting my feelings to an interested audience helps me deal with my situation. If you feel I am "whining" about it that's fine. I am sure there are things in your life that you "complain" about but really don't feel the need to change or leave, perhaps your job, your relatives, your home owners association. You are not really looking for things to change, but sometimes you just need to vent to feel better and help you deal with the situation. For me, I have an issue that I would not feel comfortable venting about in real life. This blog allows me to vent in a safe environment and your comments reassure me that there is a sympathetic (even if skeptical) ear. <br />
<br />
Hand on heart? Do I see benefits? Well, I don't know. Certainly I am more aware of the behaviors that displease her and she does not nitpicking either. She has always been dominant, but not demanding. At least not demanding in that she can't be pleased. Certainly when she lays down the law there is little room for negotiation. Is my behavior changing? Yes, it is, but just because the spankings are having a positive effect does not mean I have to like them. <br />
<br />
Do I doubt the purity of her motive? I always doubted her a little. I read too many blogs online and it is clear that spanking and DD role play have a strong sexual element to it. It is hard to believe that out of all the methods she could use to modify my behavior she chose spanking. Yes it gets my attention, yes it gets the desired results but why spanking? In spite of her denials she must get pleasure out of pulling down my pants and spanking me. Does she get sexual pleasure from that? I don't know and i am less sure of that, but I have little doubt that she gets some kind of high out of spanking me. <br />
<br />
So what is my real complaint? What has driven me to this blog and has me describing details of my life to solicit feedback from people who I know are getting their jollies off reading about my situation?<br />
<br />
Well, I know there are people who would do anything to have the kind of woman I have. In reading other blogs there are many men out there who enjoy being treated the way I am being treated, but for me this is all too real. I do not enjoy this at all. I accept it for the good of my marriage but I hate it. Grown men should not be treated this way unless they want to. So yes, being an adult should place me above the dignity of certain punishments. Children get spanked. I was spanked as a child. It is a demeaning and humiliating punishment, but for me as a child it worked. I felt embarrassed and ashamed then and had a strong desire to change my behavior to avoid those feelings. I feel twice as embarrassed and ashamed now so yes it does prompt me to change my behavior, but<br />
<br />
Do I want help? To be honest, I don't know if I want help to change the situation. It is what it is. It does help for me to share the stories of what is happening and what has happened with an audience who enjoys hearing the stories. Why? I guess I am curious to know why others find this enjoyable. I don't understand what make a man want to be punished like a child. What makes a man not want to be a man. In some ways, I realize the spankings will continue and if I could only understand why some people enjoy being treated this way I try to convince myself that I am not that abnormal. <br />
<br />
That said, there was a single event that prompted me to stop and wonder about the true meaning of the situation that I was in and if I was going to truly accept my situation and that was the threat of being spanked in front of Sarah. I have come to accept that my wife will spank me periodically and I have grown to accept that as a problem of my marriage that needs to be dealt with. All marriages have problems some big and some small. Some so big that they can not be overcome and a couple is forced to separate. With the exception of the spankings, I have no other complaints about our marriage. It is a great marriage (for me) except for the fact that my wife spanks me. <br />
<br />
My wife has often said, that if I did not want to be spanked, I could either change my behavior or leave. Obviously I have chosen to stay. Now Sarah (and remember that is not her real name) is different. I know I have heard from others that I could survive being spanked in front of Sarah. I am not so sure that is true. I am not sure I want that to be true. <br />
<br />
I never admitted this to the blog because I did not want to be wrong, but anyway here goes. Here is the big idea for the new year.<br />
<br />
Since my wife has said the only way to really avoid an ordered spanking, whether it is in private of in front of Sarah, would be to leave her. I know that and she knows that. She has pushed me to the edge many times with very severe, sound and embarrassing spankings all, so far in private. She has subjected me to other humiliations, especially in the last few weeks, but I have submitted to them all in private. She threatened to send me to the doctors in briefs. I know for many of you this is a silly thing and don't understand what my hang up is with briefs. Well, I have read where men will shave their pubes and go to the doctor wearing woman's panties and I don't understand how you can do that. Just because you don't understand does not make it a big deal for me. Briefs embarrass me and I do not want anyone to know I wear them. My wife knows this. I think she knows how important this is to me. I think that is the reason she "forgot" to remind me to wear them and has remained silent on the issue why? Because she is afraid is she pushed me too far I will leave her. I realized that while her threat is not an empty threat, it is not like she wants me to leave her. <br />
<br />
So the big idea? My wife is afraid I will leave her. For this reason, she may push me to the limit. She may probe and test, but I think she really understands where the line is and will never push me over it for fear of me leaving. I had a comment that hinted at this. All these behaviors are tests to find out where that line is. What can she get away with? (Spanking, corner time, etc.) and what will push me over the edge (public spanking, public display of underwear)<br />
<br />
So to all the people who have commented about my last Christmas present, here is my take on it.<br />
<br />
I will be spanked in 2015. Those spankings will not be more frequent or severe but will be similar to the spankings I have received up till now.<br />
<br />
She will continue to make me wear briefs,whether for her stated reasons or as a reminder of my "status" in her eyes I do not know. <br />
<br />
I will NOT be spanked in front of Sarah because my wife fears that will push me over the edge and she does not want me to leave any more that I want to leave. <br />
<br />
I will NOT have to wear briefs to my next physical. My wife will remain silent on that issue. <br />
<br />
I will continue to write about my spankings, past and future not so much because I am looking to really change the situation, but I do want and appreciate the opinion of an audience who has insight into what my wife may be thinking and planning and how to cope with my situation. <br />
<br />
Yes, I admit it. I am clearly in a DD relationship even if it is a little different than many of the others I have read about. I may not consent to it, asked for it, appreciate it or desire it, but I have come to reluctantly accept it. <br />
<br />
That does not mean I won't complain or "whine" about it in 2015. The venting, complaining and whining about it helps me deal with it and I thank all my readers for their support in 2014 and hope you will continue to support me in 2015. I will write about any interesting events that happen or share stories from the past if nothing new is happening. I will do my best to write in a way that helps you with your prurient interests so that you can gleam the facts from the story but also provide you with the entertainment you need. <br />
<br />
So that said, lets continue the game. I made my predictions for 2015. Anyone care to make predictions of your own?<br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-15631791623980906692014-12-26T03:34:00.001-08:002014-12-26T03:34:38.392-08:00Merry @#$%&! ChristmasWell, if there was any doubt that my wife was sending a clear message that she planned to continue to humiliate me that doubt ended Christmas morning. In addition to all the thoughtful gifts we gave each other, I open one package and what did I find in it? A wooden hairbrush and a package of Hanes white briefs. <br />
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<br />
I was upset when I opened the package. I looked at her with a "why?" face. She did not smile or laugh but simply said, "Well, you can use new underpants and a hairbrush can be used for just brushing hair. If it gets used for anything else, well that is entirely up to you."<br />
<br />
I put the package down, not sure how I felt or was supposed to feel. The month of December has been very intense and can only hope that with the new year things go back to normal, even if it means the occasional spanking. <br />
<br />
Than one more thought came into my head. When and where did she buy these? Did she buy them together? Did she buy them when she was shopping with Sarah? I wanted to ask to reassure myself she was discrete when she bought them, but another part of me just did not want to know. All day long I kept thinking back to that "present" wondering what it all meant. Like I said, it has been a very intense month. I can only hope it changes soon.<br />
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Merry Freaking Christmas.rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-746744552069141762014-12-21T04:03:00.001-08:002014-12-21T04:03:49.893-08:00Bare Bottom WarningsI know it has been quite a long time since my last post. First off, I am alive and well. One comment-er had asked if my silence was because I was spank free or if it was because I was agonizing over a traumatic experience. Well, the truth is both. I have not been spanked, but there has been a series of "incidents" that I have been agonizing over. <br />
<br />
If you recall from my past posts I wrote about an incident that happened in "A Shot Across the Bow" where my wife made my strip to my briefs and walk around the house all morning. Well, apparently she has not forgotten how effective this was so she did it again. I was preparing to write about that incident when she did it again, and again and again. In fact she did it several times this month and it has left me scared and confused. This is a big shift in our relationship and don't know what to make of it.<br />
<br />
It started about a month ago shortly after my last post. We were talking about New Year's resolutions and how most of them fail within the first month. She then joked, that perhaps she should set a resolution not to spank me in 2015. Given that we were discussing how most resolutions fail, I took this to mean that I could expect to be spanked in 2015. She then followed up her thought with the following,<br />
<br />
"You know, if I want to keep that resolution in 2015, you need to change your behavior so that I don't have reason to spank you in 2015. I think for the rest of this year, I am going to set a very low threshold for your punishments, but I don't want to spank you that much. So instead I will bare your bottom and set you in position so you can think about how close you have come to getting spanked. We can do this for the rest of the year and come 2015 hopefully you will come to recognize your behavior to the point where you can avoid all spank-able offenses."<br />
<br />
I of course did not like the idea at all. It sounded like I would be having my bottom bared twice a day by her. Of course, I really did not have the will or assertiveness to resist. If this was her plan I had no choice but to comply. And so it came to be.<br />
<br />
It was as little as two days latter when I started grumbling over my wife's request to clean out the garage as there were items too close to the cars and she was worried something would get run over or damaged. It was cold and I had no desire to be out in the garage. After a quick warning about how my continued attitude could cross the line into a spank-able offense I was order to "bend over the arm of the couch." <br />
<br />
I complained that she was being ridiculous, but she just calmly stated I could either take the warning or wait until the situation escalated into a "full fledged spanking." So I decided to get it over with a lay over the arm of the couch. She immediately pulled down the sweat pants I was wearing all the way to my ankles then returned to pull my briefs all the way down to my ankles. She then left the room and I stayed there for over an hour bent over the couch arm not daring to move. I felt absolutely ridiculous. <br />
<br />
Finally she came back in told me to stand up and face her. I did looking down at my shriveled tiny penis and thinking how stupid I looked. She did not say anything or do anything. I think she just wanted to see me looking stupid with my pants and undies at my ankles. I stayed like that for about 5 minutes before she told me I could pull my pants back up and that was that. Well, I had to go clean the garage out.<br />
<br />
A few days later, I complained about taking the garbage out to the curb. This time, without warning, she pulled my in front of her as she sat down on the couch. She unbuckled my pants and pulled them down to my ankles, then pulled down my briefs. She pulled me over her lap and placed her hand on my bottom. She gently pushed one of her fingers ever so slightly between my butt checks and then sat like that for about a half hour. I felt violated, even though it was my wife. The whole time I laid there shivering at the helplessness I felt laying like that across her lap. She then let me get up, pull my pants up then ordered me to take out the trash. Of course, I did it immediately this time. <br />
<br />
Another day, I was late coming home and when she asked me why I was late, instead of just telling her about the heavy traffic and having to stop and gas up the car I yelled at her. That one, I felt bad about. I don't know why I yelled at her. I was stressed about the traffic but that was not her fault and I should not have yelled at her. I actually expected a real spanking for that one. She ordered me up to the guest room and I figured it was going to be the real deal. I was ordered to strip down to my briefs and I quickly complied, the whole time begging for forgiveness and leniency. Once down to my undies I was ordered to place myself over three pillows that she stacked in the middle of the bed. So there I was butt high up on the pillows laying down on the bed. She came up to me and I flinched as I felt her hands on the waistband of my briefs. She slowly pulled them down and all the way off until I was completely naked over the pillows. It made me wonder why she didn't just ask me to strip naked. I guess she enjoys baring my bottom herself. <br />
<br />
So I laid there shivering and I heard the belt being retrieved from the closet and I felt my eyes water slightly in anticipation of the belt smacking down on my tender bottom. I nearly wet the bed when she gently placed the belt across my bottom then walked out of the room. She left me my like that for an hour before returning, picking up the belt and placing it back in the closet. She then told me I was free to get up and go downstairs if I wanted to, but that I was not allowed to get dressed. I asked if I could at least have my briefs and she said, no. I was to remain naked until the morning. So deciding I did not want to be down in the living room and kitchen all night naked, I went to the bathroom, took a shower and read in bed until I fell asleep. <br />
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Another day, I was driving with my wife and got a little "irate" at another driver. Well as soon as we got home and took off my jacket she grabbed me, stood me in front of her and began unbuttoning my jeans. When I protested as to why she was doing this she reminded me of the "road rage" incident. I complained that me expressing an opinion about my fellow drivers was hardly road rage. Nonetheless, she informed me that I should show more patience and restraint while driving. So soon my jeans were at my ankles and she started leading my over to a corner of the living room and I hobbled along, pants at my ankles restraining my movement. I felt so ridiculous. She pushed me into a corner and as soon as I was in the corner she pulled my briefs all the way down to my ankles and left me there for nearly 2 hours. She finally called me out of the corner and ordered me over to the couch where she was sitting. I shuffles over to her, pants and undies still at my ankles and when I got there she gently guided me over her lap. She placed her hand on my bottom and then spread my cheeks wide. I shivered as I felt the cool air brush across my exposed bottom hole. She kept my cheeks spread for a minute or two and I trembled at the exposure. Eventually she released my cheeks and after a few more minutes of being over her lap she stood me up and told me I could get dressed. <br />
<br />
It has been a very confusing month. So while I have not been spanked, I have been walking around totally on edge never knowing what little slip up can cause my pants and underpants to be pulled down and then be placed in one of several vulnerable positions that she has had me in. Also, there has been no sex this month at all and while it seems like my wife is baring my bottom and as a consequence, exposing my penis and testicles to her frequently, I have not seen my wife naked or touched her in just about a month. As a result I am not sure how to think of her anymore. Oh she is still my wife, but it is clear to me she is denying me access to her body while she is constantly exposing me and humiliating me for the slightest offense. I almost wish we would go back to the way things were. Having to deal with the occasional painful and humiliating spanking was bearable when they were few and far between but these frequent "warnings" at the slightest misstep are becoming very stressful.<br />
<br />
Now I saved the worst, but not the last incident, as the last one I will discuss. It was last weekend and Sarah, who I have spoken about often on here, was due to come over to meet my wife and they were planning on going out Christmas shopping. My wife was asking about some gift ideas for my mother and wanted to know if I wanted her to pick something up for us to give my mother. Now I don't know why I did what I did. There has been a lot of stress at work as we try to close out the year, but I know that should have nothing to do with my wife or mother. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I actually just replied that "I don't F***ING know what to get my mother!."<br />
<br />
As soon as those words left my lips I knew I was wrong and immediately apologized. My wife replied, "Well, I am glad you realized that there is no call for that kind of response to s simple question. Especially since I know you have a lot going on and I am trying to help you out by picking something up for us to give your mother."<br />
<br />
"I know, I am sorry. I don't know why I said that."<br />
<br />
My wife just shook her head and said, "Well, as you know we are in this strict warning period, so I will not spank you for something you immediately recognize as a mistake, but you know we need to bare that naughty bottom of yours as a warning,<br />
<br />
I swallowed hard and began shaking. I remembered that day that I posted about in 'A Shot Across the Bow' and remembered how freaked out I got standing around in my underpants in the living room thinking she was going to let Sarah see me in my underpants. Lately, it had been bare bottomed or even completely naked. I assumed she was going to either make me bend over the couch or stand in the corner with my bare bottom on display until Sarah arrived. Like the last time I figured she would allow me to run upstairs at the last moment and get dressed. Instead of pulling my pants down right there in the living-room she ordered me up to the guest room. I breathed a sigh of relief. <br />
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When we got to the guest room it was the same as before. I was ordered to strip to my underpants and lay over three pillows she stacked in the middle of the bed. So once again I was butt up over the three pillows. She then pulled my briefs down, but this time she left them at my ankles. <br />
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She then said, "You are to remain like that until I tell you to move. You are not to turn around or look away from that wall. If you do, you will be spanked.", she paused for a second and then very sternly asked, "Is that clear?"<br />
<br />
I meekly replied yes. I then heard her walking downstairs. About an hour later I heard the door bell ring and I heard Sarah come into the house. About a half hour later after that I heard someone coming up the stairs. I assumed it to be my wife. I heard her come into the room but she did not say anything. I laid there heart pounding in my chest not sure who was behind me. I felt so helpless and vulnerable.<br />
<br />
I quietly asked, "Honey is that you?" but I got no reply. I was really trembling now. A horrible thought filled my mind, I thought, Oh my God, its Sarah. She actually allowed Sarah to come up and see me laid out helpless and exposed like this. I became aware that the position I was in left my butt cheeks slightly spread and I clenched in reflex at the thought that she was behind me staring at my unprotected bottom. I also realized that since my undies were at my ankles, not only was she witnessing my bare bottom but the tighty whities clinging helplessly to my ankles. I know it sounds stupid, but for some reason having them clinging to my ankles like that was worse than if they were taken completely off. <br />
<br />
Again I quietly asked, "Honey, is that you?" Again I received no reply and again I figured that was proof that it was Sarah. A part of me wanted to turn around and confirm my worst nightmare but I remembered the warning my wife gave me if I was to turn around. I would be spanked and if I was to be spanked, Sarah would get to see it. I could not believe my wife would do this to me for such a tiny little slip up, which I immediately apologized for. As I became overwhelmed with emotion I began to cry. Soon I was softly sobbing and tears began to stream down my cheeks. <br />
<br />
As the tears began to flow freely and I fought to keep my sobs quiet I finally heard a voice behind me, "OK Honey," my wife's voice quietly spoke finally. I felt a wave of relief spread over my entire body and I took a deep breath in relief to clear my head and felt the strangest sensation spread out from my bottom hole and shoot out down my legs and across my body. It was really weird. <br />
<br />
She told me her and Sarah were leaving now. That I was allowed to pull up my underpants and put on a t-shirt, but I was not to put pants back on until she returned. I was free to move about the house as I desired, but that Sarah would be coming back to the house when they were done. She turned to leave and I immediately grabbed my underpants and pulled them up and had a t-shirt on before their car had even backed out the driveway. I quickly went downstairs to get something to eat, but had half an ear on the door and was prepared to run back up the stairs at a moments notice. I ended up spending most of the day upstairs and when my wife and Sarah finally returned several hours later I was safely upstairs. My wife came up looked at me in my t-shirt and undies and told me I could get completely dressed and come downstairs if I wanted to. To tell you the truth. I did not want to so I just got dressed and stayed upstairs until Sarah left about a half hour later. <br />
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There have been 2 other incidents since this one, all similar, but I think by now you get the idea of the hell I have been going through. Now I will have to see what the new year brings, hopefully it will be a spank free year, but I do not know if these bare bottom warning session will continue or not. I actually find them worse than the spankings, which hurt more of course, but they were less frequent. These bare bottom sessions are happening so frequently that they are effecting my thoughts 24 x 7. This is definitely a significant change in our relationship. I only hope it end soon. <br />
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<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-53991225647228821672014-11-22T04:43:00.000-08:002014-11-22T04:43:43.562-08:00Wait Till I Get You Home.Well, like I said in my last post, it has been quiet. Almost too quiet. I have received no threats, no warning since my last spanking. In some ways it makes me nervous. I almost want to ask her out and out, Am I still subject to being spanked?<br />
<br />
In some ways, I feel the same way I did when I was 12. It had been a long time since I had been spanked at that age and I came to the conclusion that I was "too old" to be spanked. My mother did not threaten to spank me or warn me that I would get a spanking if I did so and so, but alas, one day when I misbehaved (mouthed off to her actually) I quickly found myself pants and briefs down over my mother's knee being spanked just like I was still a little boy. It happened without warning and suddenly it was like the spankings never really stopped. Of course I know now that the spanking at 12 was to be my last (well at least from my mother) but all through my teenage years I still felt that I could still be spanked without warning if my behavior so warranted it. I have no doubts that my mother would have bared my bottom at 14, 15, 16, 17 or even 18 if I acted immature or childish and "earned" a spanking. I was spared a spanking at those ages not because I was "too old" but simply because I "got it" and grew out of the childish behaviors that earned me those spankings.<br />
<br />
That is exactly how I feel now. I must be behaving right so I am not getting spanked, but I would be a fool to believe that the spankings have ended for good. I am sure that if I cross the line again, I will find myself bare bottom over my wife's knee being spanked just as if they never stopped. In some ways, when I find myself being spanked by my wife, it is as if my spankings from childhood never stopped, just a change in who is doing the spanking.<br />
<br />
Now since I have no new stories to share with everyone, I promised to share a incident that happened when we were still relatively newly weds. The actual spanking itself was not particularly memorable, but what makes this blog worthy is the fact that I was told I was going to be spanked long before I was actually spanked.<br />
<br />
We were at her parents house for a 4th of July BBQ (I know its not really a BBQ if we are grilling, but that's what we call it anyway) There were many members of her family there, brothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, as well as some children of various ages. So while I knew everyone there, they were still relative strangers to me. Oh sure I was related by marriage to them all, but they were still strangers to me. Anyway, it happened so long ago I don't remember the details, but I will make them up to make for a more interesting story, but the basic story is true.<br />
<br />
As is typical with a gathering like this, people start talking, relaxing and often begin discussing controversial topics like politics. At some point, I was discussing some topic with one of my wife's cousins and as the conversation became more "spirited" I began to find I was "accidentally" inserting superfluous adjectives and adverbs that many people would find crude and offensive. I think you know that kinds of words I am talking about, especially the one that start with F. <br />
<br />
I meant no offense by it, but of course I now know my wife's family is very restrained in the use of such words and they consider it a mark of an uneducated person and one who lacks respect for others. The worst part of it was some of the children had heard me using the words. The real little ones were not paying attention, but some of the older children knew these words and had suffered punishment as a result of using them. They were not used to hearing these words coming out of the mouths of adults in their family so I was a source of confusion to them. Was I part of the family or was I one of those rude and inconsiderate adults they have heard about. <br />
<br />
Anyway, apparently my mother in law spoke to my wife and my wife came over to me and asked to "see me for a second." She then explained how she was embarrassed about my language, that her family did not appreciate the use of that language and how I should be especially ashamed of myself talking that way in front of all the children. She told me how if the children used that language they would be punished for it ,without stating what exactly that punishment would be. Well, I admit I was embarrassed and realized I should have shown restraint. Even though I had already been spanked by her at this point, I was still not clued in on cause and effect. I don't know what I was thinking, she was right about this of course. I should respect the rules of her family and be respectful of the example her family wanted to set for their children. I guess I did not want to admit that I screwed up, so I downplayed what I did and started arguing that it was no big deal, they should lighten up, I am sure the kids have heard worse, etc, etc.<br />
<br />
That did it, she looked at me and simply said, "I don't believe this! Well when we get home I am going to pull your pants and briefs down to bare your bottom take you over my knee and spank your naughty backside with my hairbrush."<br />
<br />
I was dumbstruck. Like I said, this was not my first spanking, but she was so precise in her description of what would happen when we got home that the image of her doing it quickly shot thought my mind. I played the image out in my mind and knew what would happen when we got home. She quickly walked back to the rest of the family and I never even got the opportunity to protest without being in ear shot of other family members.<br />
<br />
The rest of the evening went on without another incident, but I became very quiet and sullen as the rest of the family enjoyed their evening. Every time I looked over a saw my wife talking with someone I swore she was apologizing for my behavior and promising that I would be dealt with when we returned home. I felt a tingling in my bottom every time some one looked at me as if they knew what was going to happen to me. The children would become quiet when they came near me. It was as if they knew I was going to be spanked. It was typical of the way a child behaves around a naughty child for fear that they will somehow absorb the punishment from that child. I am sure it was simply them being quiet around the man who was using all those bad words. Nonetheless, it made me feel very uncomfortable and self conscious the rest of the night. <br />
<br />
At one point during the day I heard a little girl yelp and looked over and saw a little boy perhaps around 8 or 9 had pulled the hair of one of the little girls. I saw his mother get up and as she started to walk towards his I could see that look on his face that he knew what he did was wrong. His mother grabbed his arm and walked him to the edge of the yard away from the other kids. She stood him in front of her and bent over to speak directly to him. I watched as he looked down at his feet and clutched his hands to his sides and his mother obviously scolded him for what he did. After a few seconds he nodded in acknowledgement of what was said to him and his mother stood up and walked back to her seat. He slowly walked back behind her and you could clearly see the look of embarrassment on his face. <br />
<br />
As I thought about my own pending spanking I could not help but project myself onto that little boy and how he must have felt. It was like I was feeling now, but then I think I quickly realized that he was probably not going to be spanked for what he did. These were different times and children are not spanked as often as they used to be. Now don't get me wrong, I had no desire to have that boy spanked, but it did send a shiver up my spine as the contrast came to me. Here was clearly a naughty little boy and his mother spoke with him, pointed out his mistake, he was sorry for it and while he remained a little embarrassed at his slip up and scolding ,that was it, He was done. He was not going to have to bare his backside, go over his mother's knee of feel the sting of the hairbrush. As I tossed this thought through my head I was starting to feel really depressed. I thought about how I was going to be spanked like a little boy, bare bottom, over my wife's knee when I got home and the thought that I was being treated, like a child, kept rolling around in my head. I felt like a child, but in a way I wasn't because real children were not even punished like that anymore. I had to sit there feeling like a little boy knowing I had a bare bottom spanking waiting for me when I got home, while all around me, real little boys were just enjoying the BBQ and playing with each other while there was no threat at all to their bottoms, only mine. It really bothered me and I felt butterflies turn over in my stomach every time I thought about the pending spanking. <br />
<br />
Now of course when I was a child spankings were very frequent punishments for little boys. I have certainly spent more than my fair share of time over my mother's knees. I also recalled going to a family picnic. We had an aunt and her house was about two blocks from a rail road track. I was about 10 and one of my distant cousins was there, he was about 8. We were playing in the yard and heard the whistle of the freight train in the distance. I suggested we go down and watch the train go by. He hesitated while I ran down to the tracks, but he eventually followed me. We watched as the train rolled past and when the long train had finally passed we walked back to the house. On the way back, his mother yelled at him, "You know you are not allowed down by those train tracks", grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to the house leaving me standing there feeling guilty. <br />
<br />
I arrived back at the house and went looking for him and as I walked around inside, I heard him crying from upstairs and heard the slaps of what sounded like a belt. The slapping stopped and eventually the crying slowed down. I heard a door open and my aunt say to him, "When you are ready you can pull your pants up and come downstairs" I panicked and ran out of the house into the yard and tried to pretend that I did not hear what i just heard. The rest of the night I kept expecting my mother to come get me and punish me for leading my cousin astray or perhaps I would be dealt with when we got home. Neither one of those happened and to this day I still have guilt over the spanking I caused my cousin to get, but I rationalized it as I was never told to stay away from the tracks. If he was told not to go down there and he went, that was his fault not mine and he got what he deserved. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I had the whole rest of the evening to have all kinds of thought and memories like this flowing through my head all night. We eventually left and when we got home, I was almost immediately told to wait in the living room while my wife retrieved the hairbrush. The spanking went like most spankings go, pants down, briefs down, over the knee. Afterwards I was told to go right to bed, so I went to bed by myself and I was asleep before my wife came to bed. This was not a particularly long or hard spanking and there was nothing memorable about the spanking itself, but the lead up and dreading about it all night caused all kinds of thoughts, images and feelings to surface and that is what made this spanking note worthy. <br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-66624518777170817002014-11-09T04:14:00.000-08:002014-11-09T04:14:53.938-08:00All Quiet On The Western FrontWell it has been a few weeks since my "controversial" trip to the doctors where I chose to wear boxers instead of my usual briefs. It was the clear consensus of people who took the time to comment that I should have "manned up" and wore the briefs and was the implied preference of my wife. Nonetheless, there has been no inquiry or consequences as a result of my decision and it seems that I have survived this latest battle.<br />
<br />
I do realize however, that the war is not over. Although I have not been spanked since the last spanking I wrote about I do still feel the possibility of me being spanked again is very real and unfortunately inevitable. I do not know when I will slip up again and I am doing my best not to, but deep down I recognize my human weakness and dread the day when I once again find myself over my wife's knees feeling the sting of her hairbrush which remains her favorite implement. Oh sure I have felt her hand and certainly the belt , but the vast majority of the spankings I have received have been the hairbrush. <br />
<br />
Sarah was over the other day and that visit went without any incident or tension at all. In some ways it has been very strange. If I were to look at just these last few weeks I could come to the conclusion that I was never spanked and just led a normal healthy marriage. The only real reminder I get of my situation comes every morning when I get dresses and put on a clean pair of tighty whities when I come out of the shower. I briefly (pun intended) look at myself in the mirror and am reminded that I am putting them on solely at my wife's demand and that I do not get a choice in underpants. Other than that reminder there are no threats, warnings or admonishments to "be good or else" and certainly no spanking to speak of.<br />
<br />
In some ways, a part of me wants to think that perhaps my wife has simply given up and decided that for what ever reason, she no longer feels that spanking me is necessary or productive. I would really like to think that is the case. Of course the rational part of me recognizes that I have gone longer periods of time without a spanking and there is no reason to believe that the spankings have stopped for good. I guess I have just been a "good little boy" and not provided a valid reason for my wife to spank me. Like I said before, she does not look for menial excuses to spank me. I would not say that I felt I deserved every spanking I got, but at least I see cause and effect. <br />
<br />
For those who take an interest in reading about my spankings, I apologize for not having anything new to speak of. Of course I could always write about a past spanking experience, but compared to the ones I already wrote about I don't have one that stands out or has an interesting twist to it like the ones I already wrote about. Well, maybe there is one more story I should relate. I did get spanked once after get together with her family shortly after we were married. The spanking was done if private when we got home, but she informed me that I would be spanked while we were still there. That led to some awkward feelings before we left and some strange feeling after I was actually spanked. Perhaps I will share the details of that story in the next few days unless I have the unfortunate opportunity to write about a new incident. <br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-8413914087117984562014-10-16T16:15:00.000-07:002014-10-16T16:15:06.880-07:00"Undress to your underpants and put on this gown..."Well, today was the day of my annual physical. Of course many of you who were following my blog know that I had every intention of wearing boxers to my physical in spite of the implied implication that since I was spanked I would be required to wear briefs to my physical.<br />
<br />
First off, for the record. If you read my post "Boxes and Boxers" you will note that it was my wife who made the statement that if I was not spanked before my next physical I could wear boxers, but if she did spank me she would make me wear briefs. Well at no point did I every agree to this. In fact I even made the comment that if I were to be spank free I could wear boxers without having to hide the fact from her. That did not happen.<br />
<br />
So to those who said I made an agreement and should be a man and keep my word, I must point out that I gave no word. I simply acknowledged what my wife's plans were but I never accepted the challenge. To those who simply feel that I must submit to my wife at all costs, I get what you are saying, but like I said before. I would rather take a private spanking and accept the consequences rather than have to show up at the doctor's wearing those stupid tighty whities. I know, many of you feel I am making a big deal out of nothing, but I feel the way I feel. I can't help but feel self conscience in the briefs, but it is an emotional issue and not an intellectual decision. <br />
<br />
At no point prior to my appointment did my wife "remind" me of her threat to force me to wear briefs to my next appointment. She had left before I left for the morning having remained silent on the issue. So yes, I wore boxers. I arrived home before her having left early to make my appointment and by the time she came home I had already changed into briefs. <br />
<br />
I don't know why she remained silent on this, perhaps her incentive to correct my behavior failed and she wanted to conveniently forget to avoid the conflict. Perhaps she legitimately forgot. Either way I got to wear my boxers to the appointment. <br />
<br />
Now, if she were to suddenly remember and ask me what I wore, I think at this point I would admit to wearing the boxers. I really don't think she would spank me for wearing them, but even if she did, I am still better off being spanked in private rather than wearing the briefs. <br />
<br />
For those who were hoping I would finally be forced to wear the briefs to my doctor's appointment, sorry that I don't have a story to share about how embarrassed I was sitting on the crinkly paper in my tighty whities while the nurse remarked that my pulse and blood pressure seemed to be a little high. <br />
<br />
I don't know what is going to happen next, but it looks like I won this round. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-89042834085465629482014-10-08T07:53:00.000-07:002014-10-08T07:53:06.478-07:00Boxer BacklashFirst off, I really want to thank everyone for commenting as it helps me think through all this. My last post seemed to generate a lot of comments on my admission that I plan to wear boxers at my upcoming physical exam. Since the majority of the comments were the same I thought I would respond to them in general rather than individually. Sorry for not responding to each one, but I thought this would be more efficient. Should you wish to further comment, please do and I will respond individually as appropriate.<br />
<br />
First off, let me reiterate my side of the story. While I maintain that I do not consent to or desire being spanked, I can reluctantly acknowledge that I can sometimes be a bit of a jerk and 90% of the time I can understand what behavior led me to being spanked. Again, understanding is not acceptance in the true sense of the word. but I find submitting to a spanking easier than doing what it would take to stop them once and for all, i.e. leave my wife. <br />
<br />
Now, regarding my underwear choice. First, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I really don't care what kind of underwear you wear. I don't care if your wife makes you wear panties, thongs, jockstraps or whatever. I am sorry if you feel my wife should make me wear panties, get over it. This is not about you and your fantasies. This is about me and my wife.<br /><br />Talking nasty to my wife, failing to meet my commitments, being rude to guests, I get it, it is bad behavior. My wife chooses to spank me for that kind of behavior and that is just the way it is. I get that. My underwear choice? That is by no stretch of the imagination bad behavior. That is her imposing an unfair restriction on me that serves no purpose except to make me feel uncomfortable. I know you all feel I am making a big deal out of this and I should just get over it, but a personal preference for one style of underwear over another is not bad behavior. Now, because she is my wife, I accepted her personal preference and have worn the briefs in deference to her preference, but I don't see any reason whatsoever to have to wear them where others can see them. If I wear boxers once a year to the doctors, that is not bad behavior and I will not be forced to do something like that. I have reluctantly accepted the spankings and the briefs so long as they remain a private matter between my wife and I. <br />
<br />
I know you are all hoping that my wife finds out and punishes me for it, but I don't see how she will find out. I am alone in the exam room with the doctor and/or nurse and they are professionals and will not talk about what happens in the exam room without my permission. It is as simple as that. So I will be wearing my boxers to the exam and I know I will get away with it, so that is that. <br />
<br />
Now, why should I have to wear briefs just because my wife says so. She prefers plain white panties and I have never questioned her choice because unlike her, I feel she should be allowed to wear what makes her comfortable. What if I were to tell her I want her to only wear a purple thong? Do you think she should wear it just because I told her that is what I want her to wear? If she chose to wear one to please me that would be her decision, but if she then said she was going to wear plain white panties to the doctor, than that would be the end of the discussion.<br />
<br />
I feel the same way about this and I feel very strongly about it. In fact I feel so strongly about it that I am even willing to risk a private spanking (though I am confident I will go undetected) if it means I get to wear boxers to my physical. My mind is made up. As for speculation about having to wear panties or something more embarrassing, I am not going to consider those hypothetical questions. I have enough trouble just dealing with my briefs. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I hope I did not come across as rude, but this is an issue I feel very passionate about. I just wanted to make my thoughts and position clear. Thanks. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-82641736542804194932014-10-05T05:07:00.001-07:002014-10-05T05:21:10.278-07:00Yes, I am still here. Yes, I am still spankedFirst off. I wanted to apologize for not writing sooner. As there were a lot of questions about he relationship between my wife and I, I wrote a hypothetical interview with my wife where I answered certain questions based on the things she has said to me, told me or that I inferred over the years.<br />
<br />
Let's just say that while I hope everyone found the post helpful in understanding the dynamics between myself and my wife, I found the post very emotional. As I read and re-read what I wrote and reflect on the reality that it represents I find myself confused about what it all means.<br />
<br />
It is clear that the only way I can end the spankings is to leave my wife. I want the spankings to end, but I don't want to leave my wife. In theory, the spankings will end if my behavior improves once and for all, but no matter how hard I try I always seem to screw up.<br />
<br />
Yes, I did get spanked since my last post. It was a quick and brief spanking for yelling at my wife. I am human I get angry. I know it was wrong to yell at my wife. If we were to simply talk through our differences she would listen and respect what I had to say, but the second I started to get nasty and mean with her, my pants came down and well, I guess you know the rest. I was angry so it took a little while for the tears to flow, but she continued to spank me until I started crying. I don't think the spankings will every end. <br />
<br />
Now, the appointment has been made for my annual physical. It will take place after work on the 16th of this month. She never mentioned forcing me to wear briefs, but I have made up my mind that I will be wearing boxers. I have even planned to sneak a pair in my jacket if necessary and will change into them when I am left alone to undress for my physical. <br />
<br />
If my wife is going to continue to spank me and make me wear briefs than the least I can do is hold out as long as possible to keep this all a secret. While I have been unsuccessful in keeping myself spank free at least for now they remain a private affair. I still hope that I can keep Sarah from finding out and make sure no matter what I don't give my wife the slightest excuse to spank me in front of Sarah. <br />
<br />
Sorry for the quick and simple post, I have been too emotional to write in more detail, but I will try to keep everyone updated. Also, I replied back to the comments you have been generous enough to make. Thanks.rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-46573649839801695982014-09-05T15:51:00.000-07:002014-09-05T15:51:54.865-07:00He Said, She Said.First off, I would like to thank everyone who has commented, and I have tried to reply to most of them, with the exception of the last few exchanges where I was not sure I had anything to add to the conversation yet. As I read all the comments I realized that I may have given the impression that my wife and I never talk. That is not really true. Yes, I find some subjects more difficult talking about than others, but over the years of our marriage my wife and I have discussed a lot of things.<br />
<br />
A lot of the people who have commented on my blog have speculated about what my wife would have to say about our marriage? Well unless she has a blog of her own out there, we really can't say with 100% certainty how she would answer some of the questions that I know many of you would like her to answer.<br />
<br />
Well, the more I thought about this, the more I realized that after years of hearing her side of the story and hearing her lectures and explanations, I could probably conduct a theoretical interview with her and I bet you her answers would match mine to about 95% accuracy. Many of the answers below are things she has told me over the years, explanations she has offered and conversations we have had. I just never had a chance to work everything we have discussed into one of my stories.<br />
<br />
So in the interest of offering both sides of the story, I offer you the following theoretical interview. Note again, that while I am extremely confident these would be her answers, they are really my understanding of how she would answer the questions based on what she has said to me in the past. So while this is not an actual interview, many of the responses here are the actual answers she has given to me in the past to similar questions. <br />
<br />
Also note that since I am answering these questions based on how I think she would answer, I do not agree with all the answers here.<br />
<br />
I hope that by doing this exercise I can provide a more complete picture of what is happening in our lives.<br />
<br />
<b>Do you love your husband?</b><br />
<br />
Yes of course I do.<br />
<br />
<b>Then why do you spank him?</b><br />
<br />
Because sometimes he acts like a jerk. He hates being spanked, but it helps him to be a better person.<br />
<br />
<b>Why spanking?</b><br />
<br />
Because it works. It invokes the proper feelings both positive and negative. It triggers emotions from his childhood when he was more receptive to changing his behavior. It suppresses his macho attitude that leads him to trouble and humbles him to be more receptive to advice. He regresses a little but that regression gives him the chance to learn again and be less set in his ways.<br />
<br />
<b>Where did you get the idea to spank him?</b><br />
<br />
We shared stories from our childhood and how our parents raised us. I can tell by the way he described his spankings from his mother that they worked for him and made him a better person. I tried other methods with some success, but this really seems to work. <br />
<br />
<b>What gives you the right to spank him?</b><br />
<br />
As his wife, it is my responsibility to make him the best person he can be. If the spankings help him correct unwanted behavior, it is my duty to spank him.<br />
<br />
<b>How about your behavior? Why can't he spank you?</b><br />
<br />
First of all, I don't need to be spanked and second of all, it would not work on me the way it works on him.<br />
<br />
<b>If you "needed to be spanked" do you agree that your husband would have the right to do it?</b><br />
<br />
If I needed to be spanked, which I don't, and if a spanking was the most effective way to get me to behave the way I should behave. If all those conditions were met, then yes, my husband would have the right to spank me.<br />
<br />
<b>What do you mean you don't need to be spanked?</b><br />
<br />
When my husband offers me advice on how I can improve myself and be a better wife and a better person I accept that advice. Sometimes, I offer him advice and he accepts it, but all too often, he gets stubborn and refuses to see the mistakes he has made. That is when he gets spanked. <br />
<br />
<b>So are you saying you are better than your husband?</b><br />
<br />
Not really, I make lots of mistakes and so does he. We are human. But I am constantly trying to improve myself knowing I will never be perfect. All to often my husband will fail to acknowledge his mistakes. I use spankings to help motivate him when he is not self motivated. This does not make me better, I just am helping overcome his weakness. He helps me overcome my weaknesses, but that does not involve the need for me to be spanked.<br />
<br />
<b>Have you ever spanked him in anger?</b><br />
<br />
Well, once (see the New Year's Eve Story) He deserved to be spanked and I have no regrets in spanking him. I just wish I had sent him to the guest room and waited until I was no longer angry before I spanked him. Otherwise I am not angry when I spank him. <br />
<br />
<b>There are many people out there who get "turned on" by this. Are you "turned on" by spanking your husband?</b><br />
<br />
No, in fact, for a few days after spanking him I usually have little interest in sex. He thinks it is part of his punishment, but for me I just need a few days to put the spanking out of my mind.<br />
<br />
<b>Do you think this helps or hurts your marriage?</b><br />
<br />
I think having a husband who is a jerk would do more damage to our marriage than me spanking him does. <br />
<br />
<b>So do you admit it harms the marriage?</b><br />
<br />
It definitely creates tension and stress, but what marriage doesn't have that? If spanking him avoids bigger issues from developing, the good coming from it outweighs any negatives. <br />
<br />
<b>Do you consider what you are doing as abuse?</b><br />
<br />
If I was doing what I was doing for my satisfaction than yes, it would be abuse. I am doing what I am doing to help him improve. I know he does not agree that this is the best way to address his short comings, but it works and he will just have to accept it. <br />
<br />
<b>Does it matter that he does not consent to be spanked?</b><br />
<br />
No one ever consents to being punished. This is indeed punishment. It is firm, painful and humbling but I do not beat him for my pleasure. I expect him to suffer the consequences of his actions for the sake of our marriage.<br />
<br />
<b>What would you do if your husband reported you to the police?</b><br />
<br />
I do not think he would do that. I think he would leave me before he would do that, but if he did, I would have no choice but to explain myself in a court of law and accept the judgement of a jury of my peers. <br />
<br />
<b>Are you afraid your husband will leave you?</b><br />
<br />
I try to be fair and reasonable, so I do not think he would leave me, but if it came to that, I would accept that as a sign that he is simply no longer willing to work to improve his behavior and therefore, just as well. <br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Your husband feels his penis is too small. How do you feel about it?</b><br />
<br />
Well, we have had this conversation and I have been upfront and honest with him about it. His penis is below average, but it has been hard for me to convince him that sex is in the mind and not his groin. I enjoy sex with him because I love him. He can bring we to climax and he can physically satisfy me. I know he thinks I am just being nice when I say I am more concerned about the size of his heart than the size of his penis. Maybe I should have lied when I admitted it looked small to me. I knew what size it was before I married him. I know it is cliche to say size does not matter, but the truth is, for me, I care more about the man it is attached to then its size. I am sure there are things about me that fail to meet the specs of his dream woman, but hey, who here is a perfect physical specimen. I know it bothers him, I know he feels self conscious about it, but it doesn't bother me. <br />
<br />
<b>Why do you make your husband wear briefs?</b><br />
<br />
Because they are cheaper and easier to bleach. For me underwear is a functional item. I wear plain white panties myself, so there is no double standard here. It should not be a fashion statement. I don't know who he plans on showing his underwear to that he is worried about who sees them. <br />
<br />
<b>What about the doctor?</b><br />
<br />
Well, at first I thought he was being silly, but I did admit that was probably the one place where someone would see his underpants, so I did agree to allow him to wear his boxers to the doctor's office. I was hoping that would motivate him to change his behavior once and for all, but unfortunately, I still had to spank him just recently. <br />
<br />
<b>So are you going to make him wear briefs to his next appointment?</b><br />
<br />
Well, we will just have to see what happens. <br />
<br />
<b>What about Sarah? Would you really spank your husband in front of Sarah?</b><br />
<br />
There have been several times in the past when he has been a real jerk when she was over visiting. I am embarrassed for him and tired of defending him from Sarah's complaints. He is my husband and I see his good sides, but when he acts like such a jerk with Sarah she sees only the jerk. I have been very strict with him regarding his behavior towards her and it seems to be helping. I want that to continue so he needs to know that I am not bluffing. If he acts like I jerk to her again I will spank him in front of Sarah. <br />
<br />
<b>Do you want to spank him in front of Sarah? </b><br />
<br />
Absolutely not, but I will do what I have to do. I know he is terrified of being spanked in front of her and I sincerely hope that is enough to keep him from going back to his old ways. <br />
<br />
<b>Does Sarah know you spank your husband?</b><br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
<b>How do you think she will react?</b><br />
<br />
I have know Sarah longer than I have known my husband. Our friendship goes all the way back to junior high. I honestly do not know how she will react. I am sure she will be shocked, but I know she will support me and we will have a long talk afterwards. I know she will be discreet and sensitive with this knowledge if I ever comes to that. <br />
<br />
<b>What if he refuses to be spanked in front of her?</b><br />
<br />
If I make the decision he is to be spanked in front of her, it will happen. <br />
<br />
<b>How can you be so sure?</b><br />
<br />
Because, and I have discussed this with him already. He knows what behavior will cause me to make this decision. If he does not want to be spanked in front of Sarah, then he simply has to act civilized when she is here. We are not talking about me looking for the slightest slip up before I pounce. He knows the behavior I am talking about. It is consistent and ongoing. He ignores warnings and requests to change. I have seen it before and he has been spanked for it after she left. He knows exactly what I am talking about. If he acts that way again I will spank him then and there with Sarah watching. He will have no one to blame but himself. <br />
<br />
Because of this, deep down he will know he is wrong. He may plea and beg, but in his heart of hearts he will know he was wrong. He does not want to be a jerk and the guilt will ultimately lead him to submit.<br />
<br />
<b>But what if he surprises you and really refuses? What if he runs out of the house? What if he locks himself in the bathroom?</b><br />
<br />
We have never discussed this, but I think he knows the answer. I made it clear before we even got married. We either address his behavior with methods that get results or we need to worry about the long term viability of our marriage. <br />
<br />
<b>What if Sarah refuses to stay and watch? What if she excuses herself and leaves?</b><br />
<br />
That is her choice. He will be spanked then and there. If she chooses to leave, than so be it. <br />
<br />
<b>Last question. Do you ever see the spankings stopping?</b><br />
<br />
Yes, they will stop when his behavior improves permanently or when they no longer seem to work. I can certainly make the spankings more severe, to a point, but there is a limit to how severe a spanking I will give. If they ever stop working and his behavior becomes unbearable, then that might be worse for our marriage than the spankings. Personally, I hope his behavior improves before the spankings become ineffective. <br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-46853570594486867792014-08-31T04:33:00.001-07:002014-08-31T04:33:28.979-07:00The Pain is Gone, But the Memories Go On. Certainly this last spanking I received has been one of the physically worst spankings I have every received but also a very emotionally draining one as well. It has forced me to face a few thoughts all of which have left me very uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
First off, while reading some of your comments has been very difficult, please don't feel guilty for telling me what you believe is the truth even if it is difficult for me to accept or agree with. many of you have been supportive and encouraging and some of you have been very candid and upfront in you assessment of my situation. I appreciate all of the comments, the ones that make me feel better as well as the ones that leave me squirming uncomfortably.<br />
<br />
The first though that comes to me is that I have no real choice but to accept the fact that I will be spanked for as long as I am married to this woman. I do continue to believe that I can improve my behavior so that these spankings are few and far between and perhaps less severe, but I am only human and know that I will slip up and that there will be more spankings in my future. I can live with that so long as they continue to be fair and reasonable.<br />
<br />
Second, there have been some thoughts and comments that have left me very uncomfortable and I was at first very reluctant to write about them. I have already written about how I terrified that one day I will be spanked in front of Sarah. Of all the things I am afraid of the thought that sooner of later I will be spanked in front of her terrifies me to no end. It seems a real possibility and I have laid awake some nights worrying about it. This last incident however has raised a new disturbing thought in my head. Some have teased me about how this man I offended should have been invited to watch my spanking. I also have been reliving the time I had on the phone with him, hearing his voice on the phone while I was naked from the waist down cupping my tiny penis in my hand. I imagine him staring at me and laughing at the site of a recently spanked half naked man having to stand there and apologize to him. I have found the thoughts very disturbing. <br />
<br />
Up until this point I never even considered the fact that my would spank me in front of someone else and if she did that person would be Sarah. Now I have something new to worry about. Given the numerous warnings I have gotten about being spanked in front of Sarah, to me it is clear that sooner or later it is going to happen. Many on here try to reassure me that it will not be the end of the world. I am not convinced and it remains my number 1 fear. While thinking about it terrifies me, when I think about being spanked in front of Sarah vs. being spanked in front of someone else, I find the thought of being spanked in front of another man to be a 100 times worse than being spanked in front of Sarah. I can not imagine even imagine it and hope that idea only exists in the minds of some of my blog readers. Luckily I have seen no hints that my wife would consider spanking my in front of another man. While she has threatened it, I still think she is reluctant to spank me in front of Sarah. <br />
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Finally, I am a very shy person. Hence all these thoughts about being spanked in front of others really bothers me. I unfortunately must face another reality that is more imminent. While my wife and I have discussed this before, we have not discussed this since my last spanking. I would presume that for my upcoming physical exam in October, my wife will expect me to wear my briefs instead of my boxers. I know you all think I am being ridiculous, but for me this is really a big deal. She previously threatened to make sure I had on my briefs and to even drive me to my physical. I don't know why this is so important to her. It is very important to me. I am not wearing briefs to my next physical. Period. If she is serious about making sure I am wearing briefs and drives me, then so be it. I will sneak a pair of boxers in my pocket and when I am left alone to "undress" I will simply put the boxers on. She will never know. So I will take consolation that this will be one battle she will not win. <br />
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On that note, I will conclude by saying that there actually is one more thing. I will reserve it for the next post. I normally do not write about the sexual relations between my wife and I, but since this last spanking my wife and I have not been having a normal sex life. I usually have to go about a week of so after a spanking before we get intimate again, but this time it has been almost a month since we have done it. After this spanking, my wife went 3 weeks before initiating anything, but I found that as we were beginning to get into it, memories of the spanking, the humiliation, the being treated like a child all prevented me from becoming aroused. It led to some very interesting conversation, but I will save that for the next post. Hopefully by then I can report that I have since overcome those challenges and everything is back to normal. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-33598011511289092014-08-22T06:10:00.000-07:002014-08-22T06:10:03.325-07:00After the FallSo I laid there on the guest bed my backside burning and the tears and sobbing slowing, but still continuing. I was in total disbelief and what had happened, both in the fact that I got spanked for such a trivial offense and for the severity of that spanking. Also, laying in the guest bedroom it was clear that my wife and I had not yet made up. I realized that there might be a night or two that I would have to spend in the guest bedroom before things got back to normal. <br />
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As the crying finally subsided, I became aware of the fact that I really needed to pee. I rolled over on to my side and curled up slightly and cupped my penis in my hands as if that would somehow make the urge to go disappear. I looked down and became aware of how pathetic I looked. Here I was naked from the waist down wearing only a t-shirt. In someways, having my shirt on was worse than being naked completely. It somehow reminded me that I was not undress for a bath or for sex, but I was being punished. Yes, the spanking may be over, but I was still being punished. I had been warned not to get out of bed and in spite of the strong urge to pee, I dared not get out of bed. So I laid there trying not to think of the pressure building in my bladder. </div>
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I hated myself for letting this happen. I still could not believe my wife had spanked me, overpowered me and forced me over her lap like a child and spanked me till I was crying uncontrollably. I did not hate my wife, although I was angry with her, but hated myself for allowing this to happen or at least not being strong enough to stop it. I felt like such a helpless child and I hated myself for not being a man. </div>
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I became aware of the tiny shriveled penis in my hands. It was so small, barely a nub. I wish I had the courage to take a picture of it as I am sure no one would believe how small and tiny it gets when I am frightened and scared like this. I rubbed it slightly trying to get it to grow a little, but I was in no mood to get it to grown even a tiny bit. I looked down and cursed myself and my pathetic little penis. I know that erect it is still below average, but at least it looks like a penis, even if it is a small one. As if I did not feel enough like a man I didn't need my shriveled penis as a reminder of how pathetic I was. </div>
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I laid there shivering and trembling unsure of how long it would be before my wife came back to check on me. I laid there for about a half an hour before the door finally opened and my wife came in. Before she even had a chance to say anything to me I looked at her with pleading eyes. </div>
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"Honey, I really need to go to the bathroom. Can I go to the bathroom?"</div>
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With no emotion in her voice she replied, "Use the hall bathroom." implying that I was not to use the bathroom attached to our master bedroom. At that point I did not care, I just really needed to pee. </div>
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When I was done I started walking back to the guest bedroom. My wife was standing in the doorway. It was then that I noticed she had the hairbrush in her hands. My heart nearly leaped out of my throat and I am so glad that I peed first or else I might have lost bladder control. I felt my butt cheeks clench at the site, but was not convinced she intended to spank me again. After all, how much trouble could I have gotten into just laying in the bed? Surely the belt spanking she had given me had been sufficient. I could still feel the heat of that spanking coming off my bottom and it still stung a little.</div>
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She saw my eyes glance at the hairbrush and I noticed her eyes glance at my groin, my hands still clutched protectively in front. I slowed my pace as I got closer to her, unsure of what was going to happen. </div>
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"Come on back in." she said when she saw me slowing my pace. </div>
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As I got to the doorway mere inches from her she finally turned and walked into the room behind her. I suddenly began shaking again as if I had suddenly been dumped in a bucket of ice water as it became clear to me that I was still in trouble. She walked to the side of the bed and I stood there next to her not sure what I was supposed to do next. She looked me up and down and she could probably see me trembling, not so much from the cold, but from fear and uncertainty. Why did she have the hairbrush? I trembled thinking that she intended to spank me again. I looked down at my feet tying to avoid the site of her. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly trying to compose myself and reassure myself that she was just here to lecture me and the hairbrush was merely a symbol of her authority. </div>
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"Do you know why I had to spank you with the belt?" she asked, calmly. </div>
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"Because I would not apologize to our guest." I answered confidently. </div>
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"Well, not exactly. That would have gotten you a hairbrush spanking. No, I had to tan your backside with the belt because of your defiance and refusal to both recognize the mistake you made and accepting the punishment for it. You have no one to blame but yourself for this. At every opportunity you had the chance to make the right choice and every time you made the wrong choice. This is the most childish you have acted since we have been married and here I was thinking you were finally starting to show some maturity. A man would have simply walked up to our guest and told him he meant no offense by the jokes he was telling. That is all it would have taken. That's it, that is all that needed to be done. You refused convincing yourself you did nothing wrong. Like a child you did not think that other peoples feelings mattered. Like a spoiled little brat you could not care less what another human beings feelings were. You refused to reach out compassionately to another person and say you were sorry. You could not swallow your pride to make another person feel better. What a childish attitude."</div>
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The words were starting to sting a little. It was hard to argue with her. I still feel I did nothing wrong, but the point she was making was valid. What would have been the big deal to turn back the clock and simply speak with him. As I stood there naked from the waist down in front of my wife feeling like a naughty little boy I finally started to get her point. Why the hell didn't she make that point earlier? The lecture continued. </div>
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"So, you left me no choice but to spank you. Then, you refused to accept your punishment, refused to pull your pants and underpants down and refused to submit to your spanking. I gave you several opportunities to accept your punishment and you refused. So I finally had to take matters into my own hand. I hope now you realize that when I say you are to be spanked that means you are going to be spanked. Refusing me will only make things worse as I hope you now realize."</div>
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I slowly nodded my head yes. </div>
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"Now that it is clear what happened and why we are here, then I hope you realize that the belt spanking was for your defiance and refusal to accept responsibility."</div>
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Again I nodded yes.</div>
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"OK, then." she sat down on the bed, "now get over my knee as you still have a hairbrush spanking coming for the refusal to apologize."</div>
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I couldn't believe what I just heard. I didn't think I could take another spanking so soon. I immediately began begging for mercy, "No please, please don't spank me again, I don't think I can take another spanking. My backside is already on fire."<br />
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"Well, I am sorry, but you brought this on yourself. Now are you going to come over here and get over my knee or do I need to go get the belt again"<br />
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"No, please honey. I will do what you say, I am not refusing you, but please please don't spank me again."<br />
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Just writing this out again. makes me so disgusted at myself. There I was naked from the waist down my tiny little penis cupped protectively in my hands, my bottom still sore from the previous spanking and I was pleading with my wife not to spank me again. I was shaking and trembling with fear. I knew if I resisted she could overpower me and who knows what would happen. How the hell did I get here. Where did I go wrong. So far at least I managed to hold back the crying but other than that I had no dignity left in me as a man. I was no longer a man in any sense of the word. I did not know what I was. <br />
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Up until now I never felt my wife invented excuses to spank me. Now for the first time I felt she did. For all I know this guy never even complained to my wife and was never offended. I felt betrayed and then a very strange feeling came over me. I stood there feeling like a powerless child very aware of the tiny shriveled penis cupped in my hands. While reliving the days events when I though about this guy who caused all the problems I shivered as I thought of him and how he most likely had at least an average sized penis. For a split second I imagined him laughing at the site of my tiny penis and became very uncomfortable with the thought. The thought frightened me and I never would have thought my wife capable of cheating on me, but for a split second the thought entered my head as I thought of the other man comparing his penis to my tiny one. Perhaps my wife spanked me not because she wanted to change my behavior but because I disappointed her as a man. Certainly, the intensity of this spanking had my mind racing with all sorts of thoughts, not all of which I did dwell on, but this one was one of the stronger thoughts even if it did not last long. <br />
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I looked up at my wife. I wanted to just come out and ask her. My heart was pounding as the words formed in my head, but in the end, I just wimped out. She had broken me and I had no fight left. <br />
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I began begging again, but slowly moved towards her lap. "Please honey, don't spank me. I learned my lesson. The first spanking really hurt I don't need another one.", but I was right next to her now and I knew what was going to happen next.<br />
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She gently guided me across her lap, my top laying on the bed. I felt her move her legs to 'lock' me in place like she did earlier and then grab me tight across the waist like before. I knew I would not be able to break free and the fact that she did this signaled to me that she expected the pain to be so unbearable that she wanted to make sure I did not jump up.<br />
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I laid there taking deep breaths waiting for the spanking to start. I was shivering uncontrollably and clenching my butt cheeks. I felt so weak, so vulnerable, so helpless. I wanted this night to be over and for things to go back they way they were, but I also knew that if I was never spanked again, this would never go back to the way they were. I would always remember this night of how my wife forced me over her knee and spanked me until I cried like a little boy.<br />
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CRACK! the hairbrush came down unexpectedly and I screamed out in pain at the sudden assault. The pain was more intense then I had imagined. That one crack seemed to re-energize the pain of the previous spanking. "OH GOD NO, PLEASE NO MORE!", I shouted, but that was followed up with another crack across my bottom. The begging and pleading continued.<br />
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It took probably only 5 or 6 more crack before the crying started again. After 10 the spanking stopped. I cried for a few minutes but there were not as many tears. My wife waited until I was relatively calm before letting me back up. I stood up gently running my hands across my backside no longer worried about protecting my tiny penis. <br />
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My wife stood up and placed her hand on my shoulder. "OK, your spankings are done, that part is over. Now you still need to apologize to (fill in the blank)."<br />
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Now I will admit to the blog that I still do not feel that I owed anyone an apology, but at this point I would have confessed to armed robbery to make the spankings stop so I replied, "OK, I will give him a call tomorrow." <br />
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She looked at her watch and so, "No, we will call him right now. Its not that late."<br />
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I really wanted the night to calm down, but I was in no mood to argue, so I nodded OK. <br />
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"Let's go downstairs and call him on the speaker phone in the den so I can listen in."<br />
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Again, I nodded OK and we turned to leave the room. As we exited the room I turned towards the master bedroom to retrieve my pants but my wife stopped me.<br />
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"Where are you going? The phone is downstairs."<br />
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"I am just getting my pants."<br />
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"No, you don't need pants. You will stay as you are."<br />
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"Oh honey please, let me get my pants I feel so silly talking on the phone half naked."<br />
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"Too bad, besides, its a speaker phone, not a video phone, its not like he is going to see anything."<br />
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I realized I had no choice, so feeling ridiculous I began to walk downstairs half naked. my wife following.<br />
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When we got to the phone my wife dialed and I stood next to the phone again instinctively cupping my penis in my hands. <br />
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"Hello", he answered when the phone stopped ringing.<br />
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"Hi (fill in the blanks) its (me)" I replied my voice a little unsteady and unsure of myself. <br />
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"Oh hi, (me) what can I do for you?"<br />
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"Well", I started again a little quiver in my speech, "I understand that you overheard some jokes I was telling today and I wanted to let you know that I meant no offense bu them."<br />
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"Oh," he replied almost sounding as unsteady as me, "well, OK, sure no problem, great party though had a good time otherwise."<br />
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"OK, glad you had a good time. Well," I paused looking at my wife who nodded OK, "I guess that's all I wanted to say."<br />
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"OK."<br />
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"Well goodnight then."<br />
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"OK, goodnight."<br />
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My wife pressed the end call button and I stood there looking down.<br />
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She started, "Now, do you see how easy that was? What was the big deal in doing that face to face earlier today. Was your self pride so big that you couldn't have done that today when I first asked you? Did I really need to spank you as bad as I did to get you to say those simple words? I swear sometime you are such a baby."<br />
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I felt so stupid standing there. It was really no big deal. Why did I take such a stand on a trivial issue? What the hell is wrong with me? There are fights worth fighting, why the hell did I pick this one?<br />
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"Here is what is going to happen now. You will take a shower in the guest bath. You will sleep in the guest room tonight. You will not be allowed pants or underpants. If you want a t-shirt that is your choice. When you come home from work tomorrow, you are to return to the room and again remove your pants and underpants. You may stay in the room or come downstairs, your choice, but you will remain naked from the waist down tomorrow after work until you go to bed in the guest room. If you choose not to come down for diner tomorrow I will bring it to the room, but if you do come down to diner, you will remain pants-less. The next day, when you return back from work, your grounding will be over and you may dress and move about the house as you please. Any questions?"<br />
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Yes, I had a billion questions, but I replied, "No."<br />
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"OK then, off to the shower with you." And off I went. </div>
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Well, the shower gave me lots of time to think and over the next few days I will share some of those thoughts with you. Thanks for your continued interest. </div>
rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-60439586847221972602014-08-21T05:04:00.002-07:002014-08-21T05:04:41.198-07:00Pride Comes Before the FallSorry I have not posted for awhile, but I have been so upset. I have been struggling to come to grips with the fact that I broke my clean streak and got spanked about a week and a half ago. It had been pretty intense unlike any spanking I have received and it has been very difficult for me to even write the story and share what has been going on. The first time I even opened the blog myself and reread the words of encouragement and support and how my October goal looked so close, I cried all over again knowing that I failed. It took me a few days to calm down enough to write again and even now my eyes are watering at the thoughts of what happened.<br />
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It started when we had a cook out at our house and we had a few friends and neighbors over. Some were friends of mine, some of hers. Yes, Sarah was there, but this particular story does not involve her. At one point during the day, I was sitting with a friend of mine and was telling some politically incorrect jokes. You know the types of jokes I am referring to. They could be making fun of an ethnicity like Polish, Irish, Jewish jokes, they could be making fun of a profession like doctors, lawyers or engineers, etc, physical traits like being blonde, fat or ugly, jokes about gender like being a man, woman or misc. Jokes about religion or jokes about political affiliation, liberal or conservative. Jokes that by there very nature are design, in someway to offend, but in a funny manner. <br />
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We probably all have some category of joke that we fit into and as I contemplated writing this I decided that I would not get specific as to the exact type of jokes I was telling because I don't think it should matter. If I was to say what kind of joke I was telling then perhaps your opinion would be different if you were in the category of the joke I was telling. I find it very disingenuous when someone laughs at all kinds of jokes, but then suddenly gets offended when a joke is told that makes fun of their background. I will say this, I laugh at the jokes that are told about my ethnicity and cultural background if they are told in jest. There is a difference between telling a joke and making an insult. <br />
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In my case, I was having some good natured fun with one of my friends and telling jokes about HIS background and he was replying with jokes about mine and we were having a good laugh at each other's expense. Sometime later I was in the house bringing in some dirty dishes and bring out more food when my wife came up to me.<br />
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"We you telling so jokes earlier that were offensive?" she asked.<br />
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"No, why do you ask?" I replied, not considering the jokes I was telling as offensive per se.<br />
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" Well, (male guest of one of her friends), said you were telling (fill in the blank) jokes and you know he is (fill in the blank) and took offense at them."<br />
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"So what? First off, I was telling those jokes to (friend of mine I was telling the jokes to) and he is also (fill in the blank) and he was not offended." I replied.<br />
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"Well, maybe but he was still offended you should go and apologize to him."<br />
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Well at this point I was a little pissed off. First, someone overhears a conversation that he was not a party to then complains to my wife instead of saying something to me, then expects me to apologize because he does not have sense of humor? To me apologizing implies that I have done something wrong. I did not see myself as doing anything wrong and still don't. If I tell a joke and someone gets offended that is not my fault. People seem to be looking for an excuse to be offended these days. Furthermore, all it would have taken was for him to be a man and to say to my face, sorry, but I don't find that funny. I might not have apologized, but I certainly wouldn't have continued to tell jokes where he could hear them. Instead he probably went crying to his girlfriend who went complaining to my wife. So here I was arguing with her.<br />
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I don't recall the exact words I used to make my argument, but her position was that it did not matter if I intended to offend. If someone found what I said offensive I should apologize. What was the big deal to apologize?<br />
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Again, I repeated that I would apologize if I did something wrong. I did nothing wrong. I was joking with a friend of mine. If he is offended by that then that is his problem not mine. <br />
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My wife then calmly said, "Are you going to apologize or do I need to deal with this when everyone leaves?"<br />
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At the time, I didn't make the connection. It had been months since I was last spanked and the idea that she was threatening me with a spanking never occurred to me. I must admit, if I knew she was going to spank me over this I might have apologized in protest to keep my record clean. I never would have thought she would have spanked me over telling jokes. She is usually a lot fairer than that. I simply thought we would defer the discussion until after our guests left. After all, we had to be good hosts and get back to our guests. <br />
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So I replied, "we can discuss this after everyone leaves."<br />
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"Are you sure that is what you want? You want me to deal with you after everyone has gone?"<br />
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"Yes." I replied missing the subtle warning.<br />
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"Very well, but it is a real shame that you just simply did not apologize.", and she turned and walked back out. <br />
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The rest of the party went off without incident.<br />
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After we finished cleaning up she said to me, "OK, now let's settle this failure to apologize business."<br />
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"Fine." I replied feeling pretty sure of my argument. She turned and walked up to our bedroom and I followed her, but by the time I got to our room she already had the hairbrush in her hands. <br />
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Without hesitation she looked at me and ordered, "Pull down your pants and underpants."<br />
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She was not mad, but calm and assertive. Both the command and the sight of the hairbrush in her hands shocked me. My heart began pounding in my chest and my stomach churned at the implication of the order I had been given. A tingle shot across my bottom and I felt my tiny penis shrivel in fear at the sight of her with the hairbrush. But after the initial shock I was insulted and offended. I was not going to let her spank me for telling jokes. I swallowed hard and with a dry mouth I slowly spoke up in my defense.<br />
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"This is not fair. I am not going to let you spank me for telling jokes."<br />
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"You are not being spanked for telling jokes. You are being spanked for not apologizing to one of our guests, now pull your pants and underpants down."<br />
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"No, I won't. I am not going to be spanked for this." I was a little defiant and scared. I never really defied my wife before. I was trembling and shaking, but also pretty cocksure of myself as I still felt that I was in the right. "This is not like the other times, I did nothing wrong, I am not going to be spanked for this."<br />
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"I am sorry that you don't think you did anything wrong. That more than anything is the reason you need to be spanked for this. If you had taken my advice and simply apologized like you were told we would not be here. You chose to be stubborn and childish about this so now you will be treated like the child you are. Pull down your pants and underpants, this is the last time I will ask."<br />
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I was really trembling and shaking. In some ways, I felt like I was going to pee my pants I was so scared, but I also felt she was wrong. My heart was pounding in my ears and my eyes were getting slightly watery, but again I asserted myself. "No, I am not going to be spanked for this."<br />
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With that she calmly placed the hairbrush on the dresser and slowly walked out of the room. I thought, wow that was easy. All it really took was to say no. I thought about all the long, painful and humiliating spankings I had endured from her and all I really ever had to do was to stand up and say no. I began thinking about the briefs I was wearing and concluded that all I had to do was buy boxers and simply tell her I was not wearing briefs anymore. It began to look like my days of embarrassment and humiliation were over, but before I could even completely calm back down she came in again. She was carrying a belt. Actually she was carrying the belt she used on me New Year's Eve. That dreaded belt. My stomach immediately started churning and again I felt like I was going to wet my pants with fear.<br />
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Without warning she walked up to me grabbed my arm yanked me so I turned partially away from her and she immediately whacked me hard with the belt across my shorts covered backside. I yelped at the suddenness of it and my eyes began to water up from the emotional roller-coaster I was on. I was going to be spanked once again. My clean streak was over. <br />
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After that one whack she released me and I instinctively reached back to rub the spot where she had hit me. I cursed myself for showing that reaction, but it was a reflex and I could not help myself. I looked at her shocked, but she was not mad. She was calm and in control and in some ways that frightened me more than if she was mad and out of control. If she was mad, then all I had to do was get her calm and she would be more rational. But she was calm and rational. This was not her lashing out in frustration or anger. She was totally in control and making it clear that I had a spanking coming.<br />
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"Pull down those pants and underpants now." she said in a firm but calm voice. <br />
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I could not believe this was happening, tears began to well up in my eyes, I remained assertive, but hints of doubt and pleading started to enter my words, "No," I said again almost crying. "I did not do anything wrong, you can't spank me." The words were half sobs in a begging sort of tone, but I was not saying please and not begging for reprieve. I was still making my case, still refusing to accept that I had committed a spankable offense.<br />
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"But you did do something wrong, you refused to correct your mistake and now you stand here defiant refusing to accept your punishment for that mistake." Again she quickly grabbed my arm, yanked me sideways and brought the belt across my backside again and letting me go. I felt a tear run down my cheek, but I fought back the desire to cry and tried to replace it with righteous indignation. <br />
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"I don't deserve to be spanked, you can't spank me!" I said still defiant, raising my voice to overcome the desire to cry. I then tried to stand up tall and proud hoping that she would realize that I was simply not wrong on this issue. My heart was pounding deep in my chest as I stared at her. I was waiting for her to grab my arm again and was prepared to pull away rather than let her get me turned around exposing my backside to her. She took a step towards me and I flinched in response. She shook her head back and forth in a 'no' motion clearly not happy with me.<br />
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"I am sorry that you do not see what you have done as wrong, but it is wrong and you will be spanked for this. Now pull down your pants and underpants and bend over the bed."<br />
<br />
My heart was really pounding now and I was trembling with fear as my mouth went dry and I had a shiver that kept shooting all across my body feeling my testicles retract in fear in preparation for a fight. I was starting to have doubts. I thought for sure my defiance would help make my case. I was not going to pull my pants and underpants down. This was the moment I was always afraid of. What was she going to do? It was a battle of wills and I was not going to pull my pants down.<br />
<br />
Quietly, barely a whisper, choking back hard as a lump filled my throat, one again I replied, "No."<br />
<br />
She moved quickly, I saw her moving and expecting her to grab my arm once again I turned away to avoid her reach. Being slightly off balance she pushed me back onto the bed and I fell onto it. She had one arm across my chest and with the other she began to unbutton and unzip my shorts. I tried to stand back up but was shocked when I felt that I could not push up against her weight. My shorts were already unzipped and I felt them being pushed down but they were stuck underneath my bottom. As I continued to struggle pushing up against her, she caught me off guard when she eased up on me and quickly stood up. My shorts immediately fell to the floor and before I completely processed the move, she once again had pushed me back down onto the bed. <br />
<br />
I was frightened at her strength. I knew she was in good shape, but I was always under the illusion that in a fair fight I would be able to overpower her. Now it appeared that this was not the case. Again I tried pushing up against her and again she caught me off guard by easing up and getting me standing again. I can't even explain the next move it all happened so fast. I was being spun around and became a little disoriented, felt myself falling again and the next thing I knew I was over her lap the top of my body laying on the bed and my legs over her lap. I then felt her leg lock my legs tight. <br />
<br />
I struggled to break free, but I was mortified to discover how strong she really was and how weak I really was. Finally after all my resistance and denial I began to realize what I had always feared. I was helpless to stop her from spanking me. There I was, shorts at my ankles, my brief cover bottom placed perfectly across her lap. I tried kicking my legs, but they were held tight in place by her leg. I tried lifting my upper body, but the combination of her strong arm around my waist and my inability to gain any leverage from the position I was in made it difficult. I struggled for a while, she said and did nothing until she felt me stop fighting her. Exhausted from the struggle I finally stopped squirming. As I calmed down from the fight and let the realization of my predicament sink in, the tears and begging started.<br />
<br />
"Please don't spank me, I didn't do anything wrong." I said as tears began to finally flow down my cheeks. <br />
<br />
Suddenly I felt the belt across my backside, I let out a scream and then immediately started crying in earnest. It was a solid hit, sharper than the slaps I received when I was still being defiant. I then felt her tugging my underpants down. Part of me wanted to beg her to leave them up but I realized that they were coming down no matter what I pleaded and they offer so little protection anyway that there was just no point in begging. Soon they had joined my shorts at my ankles.<br />
<br />
And so it continued. Sharp stinging whacks of the belt, my crying and begging for it to stop, my struggling uselessly against her grip trying to break free. It was at the same time both a blur and a memory that will be burned into my mind for ever. Emotionally it was the worst spanking I have ever received. Physically, my bottom burned like it had never burned before. My kicking and struggling to escape only served to remind me that I had been physically overpowered by my wife. The spanking finally ended like they always do and by the time my wife stood me back up I was broken, physically and emotionally. I was shaking and trembling before her. My face wet with tears gasping for breath sobbing like a child. I was in no condition to have a discussion with. <br />
<br />
My wife told me to step out of my shorts and underpants and for the first time that night I did as I was told. She led me, naked from the waist down, into the guest room. She told me to lay down on the bed and to stay there until she came back and not to get out of bed for any reason 'or else.'<br />
I was still crying too hard to acknowledge her verbally but I immediately laid down on the bed, on my stomach of course and cried until I could cry no more.<br />
<br />
I had a lot to think about and soon my wife would return. Writing this story has been emotionally draining for me I even cried writing it out, but I certainly need you comments, but please give me a few days to recover and emotionally prepare myself to read and respond to them. <br />
<br />
I will also find the strength to continue this story as when my wife returned, it was clear that while the worst was over for the night, my punishment was not yet done. <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-26644395978058278742014-07-30T09:36:00.000-07:002014-07-30T09:37:05.290-07:00A "Brief" ConversationWell as I previously mentioned, so far this summer has been going very well and it has been quite a while since I was last spanked. I did have that incident where my wife felt I was borderline and make me undress to my underpants as a warning and that freaked me out, but otherwise the summer has been going very well.<br />
<br />
Here it is almost August and now the goal of remaining spank free until October does not seem so unreasonable. I am getting more and more confident that I will be wearing boxers to my next physical. I just hope I am not getting too confident and I do try to remain vigilant that I avoid the behaviors that get me spanked.<br />
<br />
Now I keep getting comments that getting spanked in front of Sarah will not be the end of the world, except for one comment that it looks like my fears would be justified (thanks for your patience I will take time to respond to all the comments soon) I am sorry, but the thought of having to wear briefs to my next physical is really embarrassing and I find dealing with that hard enough where at least would not be out of the question. While I realize I am in the minority, I am sure there are many other men who still wear tighty whities and probably even wear them to their physicals. So my wife is probably right when she says the doctor and nurse will not care, but I do. I want to wear boxers and perhaps that is why I find this so difficult. In my mind, showing up wearing briefs bothers me because I want to wear boxers and am wearing briefs only because that is what my wife wants me to wear. It is a subtle daily reminder of the authority she exerts over me. Perhaps that is why I find them embarrassing.<br />
<br />
Anyway, given the good behavior I have been demonstrating I decided to ask my wife to let me begin wearing boxers. I would even acknowledge that I would return to briefs if my behavior did not meet her standards. I thought this was a reasonable request, but I was surprised at her response. <br />
<br />
Her response was, "I understand you wanting to wear boxers for your next doctor's appointment and we already discussed that I would allow that if I did not have to spank you before your next appointment. So tell me, who are you planning to show your underpants to that you feel the need to wear boxers?"<br />
<br />
I was at a loss for words. I wanted to wear boxers just because I wanted to wear boxers. They made me feel more manly. I had no intention of showing them to anybody. I didn't even like showing them to the doctor and nurse, but that was necessary. I was too embarrassed to admit that briefs simply made me feel like a child and I just wanted to wear boxers, but knowing my wife, she was more respectful of intellectual arguments and lacked sympathy for emotional arguments that led to 'silly decisions' as she would say. I struggled to come up with an intellectual argument and blurted out that they were simply "more comfortable" and that the briefs "were too constricting" I also reassured her that I had no intention of parading around in my underpants, boxers or briefs.<br />
<br />
She paused for a few seconds, then shocked me with the following response, "well, you have two pair. I want to keep one pair new for your doctor's appointment. The other pair you wore at your last appointment are washed and put away. I tell you what. Tomorrow you may wear the washed pair and we will see how you feel about them. But, boxers are a lot more expensive than briefs so if you really want to make the switch, you will need to budget and save up for them."<br />
<br />
I was ecstatic and hopeful for many reasons. The first was her keeping a new pair for my physical meant that she had confidence that I would be able to reach my goal of being spank free until October. Second, she accepted my argument and was going to allow me boxers full time. I was looking so forward to writing this and sharing this with the blog, but before I could even write this up, the "trial" did not go so well.<br />
<br />
On Sunday, I got to wear my boxers. Well it had been years since I last wore them, other than the brief time I had them on for my physical, and to tell you the truth, they were not that comfortable. My wife kept catching me 'adjusting' myself, picking at the seat of my pants, wiggling while I was sitting and other signs that I was not comfortable in the boxers. She kept challenging on this and I just replied that I was not used to them.<br />
<br />
"I thought you said you wanted them because they are more comfortable? You do not look comfortable at all:, she challenged.<br />
<br />
"I am just not used to them, that's all." I replied.<br />
<br />
"Well, if you don't stop pulling at them by dinner time, I think you need to be mature about this and admit that they are really not as comfortable as briefs are."<br />
<br />
Well, dinner time came and I could not help myself. I kept pulling and adjusting myself to the point where my wife indicated she had had enough and I was to go upstairs and change into my briefs. I begged her for another chance, but my request fell on dear ears, so I trudged upstairs and changed into my briefs. <br />
<br />
She giveth and she taketh away. <br />
<br />
Oh well, at least I tried. At least I will still get to wear them to my physical in October, that offer still stands.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-78756545241526252922014-07-19T04:36:00.000-07:002014-07-19T04:36:04.765-07:00Honor Thy Mother Part 2Sorry for the delay in posting the second part of this. We took some vacation time and then it took a while to catch up on everything.<br />
<br />
Anyway read Part 1 if you forgot where I left off.<br />
<br />
So I stood there with the thoughts of how my mother had spanked me at 12 flooding through my memory while my wife admonished me for yelling at my mother and throwing her out of the house. Since this was not my first spanking from my wife, I knew she was planning to spank me at that time. A part of me wanted to beg her not to spank me, but every time the thought of begging for a reprieve came into my head so did the memory of me standing before my mother begging when I was 12 and the pain of that memory prevented me from making a similar plea to my wife.<br />
<br />
She turned and left me standing there in the living room and I knew she was going for the hairbrush and my heart began to pound in my head. I was conflicted as the thoughts of both my mother and my wife played out in my mind, memories of my childhood and the feeling of absolute obedience a child must give to his mother mixing with the reluctant submital to my wife. <br />
<br />
She returned with the hairbrush and I began trembling with fear the moment I saw it. She stood before me with a look of disappointment on her face.<br />
<br />
Again she reminded me, "If you were 12 and spoke to your mother that way you would of had your bottom bared and spanked by her."<br />
<br />
She paused letting the words sink in, again the memory of humiliating spanking I received at 12 haunting my thoughts confusing the past with the present. At 12, I was a child I was dependent on my mother and she had the responsibility to insure that I was raised in a safe and healthy environment, but she also had the responsibility to insure I became a respectful and moral member of society. While spanking may be a controversial method of discipline today, it was certainly an expected method of discipline when I was 12. My mother was neither cruel or inhumane, she simply saw this as her duty. She could not allow how 12 year old son to get away with feeling he could address his mother in that manner and no begging or pleading was going to save me from her doing her duty.<br />
<br />
I stared at my wife as she reminded me of those events so long ago, yet feeling like they just happened. I was not a 12 year old boy anymore and she was not my mother. Even my mother had to yield her authority as I was no longer a child but a man. Good, bad or indifferent, her task was completed and all she could do was sit back and hope that she was successful in making me a good and honorable man. My spanking days should be over, but as I stared at my wife, I realized that any flaw in my character that my mother had failed to correct my wife was now going to take on. <br />
<br />
She continued, "I am so embarrassed by what you did."<br />
<br />
She was embarrassed? Who is the one who is about to be spanked like a 12 year old? Why is she embarrassed, I thought.<br />
<br />
"I can't believe anyone would treat their mother that way. Right or wrong, she is still your mother and no matter what she says or does, she deserves your total respect."<br />
<br />
Deep down she was right of course. I am sure we could have found a better way to address our disagreement, but my mother can be so pushy and thought it would be best if I just laid down the law and established that I was no longer a child and she should show me the respect I deserved. I was an adult after all. Then how come I didn't feel like an adult at that moment?<br />
<br />
"Anyway," my wife spoke interrupting my thoughts, "since you act like a 12 year old, you will be treated like a 12 year old. Pull down your pants."<br />
<br />
The words shocked me, even though I knew they were coming. There should have been no surprise, but hearing the words sent a shiver through my body anyway. I looked down ashamed at myself. Ashamed for the way I treated my mother, ashamed for allowing my wife to treat me like this, ashamed for not being a man and as I reached for the buttons on my jeans ashamed that I was once again going to pull my pants down and let me wife spank me like I was still a 12 year old boy. I slowly slid the jeans down to my knees trying to push the thoughts of my childhood spanking out of my head I was becoming uncomfortable with the comparison of my present situation with the past.<br />
<br />
"Underpants too." she added when she saw I was standing their with my briefs still on.<br />
<br />
Again I slowly lowered my briefs to join my jeans. I looked down at my pathetic looking penis all shriveled up with fear and embarrassment and in some ways was it helped to push the childhood memories from my mind. At last a reminder that I was indeed a man. My penis may have been small, but the surrounding manly pubic hair was a stark contrast to the hairless little boy of my memories. I concentrated on how I looked to help keep me focused on the present, as embarrassing as that was.<br />
<br />
My wife sat down on the couch then order me, "Over my knee"<br />
<br />
I complied focusing on her voice, her look, her smell as I continued to concentrate on my body and reassure myself I was a man. In spite of how this may look and feel, I kept telling myself, I am not a boy going over my mother's knee I am a man going over my wife's. Yes I am being spanked, but I am being spanked by my wife. Only men have wives, so therefore I am a man.<br />
<br />
I kept repeating this mantra the whole time I was being spanked and while I felt every blow that landed on my backside, I did manage to keep my emotions in control and even though my bottom was really stinging by the time she was done, I did manage to stop myself from crying and the watery eyes were more a result from squeezing my eyes then they were from an emotional buildup. <br />
<br />
My wife allowed me to get up and get dressed. The next morning I apologized to my mother and invited her back over for dinner the following weekend. Dinner was pleasant and I again apologized to my mother and she apologized to me for being so pushy. All in all, it ended well for everyone.<br />
<br />
The only thing. At one point during dinner when we were all apologizing to each other, my wife looked at my mother and said, "You have a good man in you son Mrs. XXXX. You must have done a good job of raising him when he was a little boy."<br />
<br />
My mother looked at me and smiled. I wonder if she could see me blushing?rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-65270358169395941032014-06-30T05:16:00.000-07:002014-06-30T05:16:01.003-07:00Dazed and ConfussedI recently posted part 1 of the story about the spanking I received after having a fight with my mother. I must admit I was a bit surprised by the comments I received so far about that story. It is unclear if the comments I am receiving are from the same person(s) or not, but I must admit I was taken back buy the hostility I received.<br />
<br />
As I have shared stories about my wife and how she has slowly got me to the point where I unwillingly submit to her spankings and other mild punishments the majority of comments that I receive are along the lines of "grown a pair", "put her over your knee", "stop whining", "stand up to her", "don't let her push you around", etc. etc. Oh yes there are the occasional comments saying I deserve it and such but the majority have been encouraging me to stand up to my wife and be a man. <br />
<br />
Now I related a story about my pushy mother who comes over to my house, insults me and my wife and treats me like a child. Now, unlike my wife who has a claim to our household, my mother has no claim to our house or how we furnish or decorate it. So when I "stand up to her" and "be a man" and ask her to leave I am criticized for it. <br />
<br />
Now my wife has already spanked me for this and I will finish the story and share part 2, but I am confused as to why the same people who are telling me to "grow a pair" when I submit to my wife appear to be the same people who are now saying "your wife should buy a cane." and "you got what you deserved." and "your mother should have taken you over her knee."<br />
<br />
Now I get it, you should have the utmost respect for your mother and I do respect her, but should a grown man have to put up with insults from his own mother in his own house? Why is it that when my wife spanks me because I talk back to her I need to "grow a pair" but when I remind my mother that I am an adult and she needs to respect me in my house I need to "grow up." and when my wife spanks me for that she is applauded?<br />
<br />
Anyway, I will finish the story as promised, but so far the comments have made me feel a little ashamed of what I did. It was my intention to share this story and then share my feelings about what happened to me the last time I "stood up for myself" and "grew a pair." Apparently instead of getting support and encouragement I now appear as immature and childish and it seems as if my follows now feel I am getting the spankings I deserve. It even seems like some feel I have to be punished all over again for this offense. <br />
<br />
Now I am even more confused than ever. Anyway, I will finish up the story hopefully in a few days, but again, I now have something new to think about. Is there something wrong with me? I have been trying to relate these stories as accurate as I can recall them but am I missing something in my telling that makes me a flawed person who needs to be spanked to remain decent?<br />
<br />
I feel I try hard to do the right things and be a good and responsible person and husband. I was spanked as a child when I deserved it and I think it helped me to develop a good character, but I would have thought that I have outgrown spankings. My mother stopped spanking me at 12, so why does my wife feel its necessary now that I am an adult? Am I missing something? In some ways I do feel the same as when I was a child but my wife is not my mother. <br />
<br />
Perhaps this story revealed the fundamental character flaws that I fail to see myself. I want the spankings to stop, but not sure exactly how. I am so dazed and confused. rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5456345249763640133.post-56150235040623230012014-06-25T06:19:00.000-07:002014-06-25T06:19:26.324-07:00Honor Thy Mother Part 1First off, let me apologize for the delay in getting this posted. It took me a while to get this finished as I was distracted with the whole made to stand around in my underpants incident and what that means for my long term prognosis for remaining spank free for the rest of the summer. I have been reading the comments and there seems to be a consensus that unless I "grow a pair" additional spanking are inevitable and that a spanking in front of Sarah is also highly probable. with all of this going on in my mind it has been difficult to complete this story. I decided to post what I have so far and will finish it up when I get the chance. <br />
<br />
I tried to recall the number of spankings I have received since I was first married and while they are few and far between I realized that there was enough of them that I have begun to lose count. There have probably been some where between 20 and 30 spankings that I have received which is still a lot for a grown man who should be receiving 0 spankings. Of course some stand out more than others and this one, where I was spanked after a fight with my mother was particularly memorable, not because of the physical spanking itself, which was relatively mild, but because of the emotional connection it created.<br />
<br />
First off, let me state that I do love my mother and I get along OK with my mother in law, but as with most people, there are times when you simply disagree with them and they get on your nerves. This incident happened early on in our marriage, but after my wife started spanking me. She was over and we were at the point where we were still filling out our house with furniture and decor and such. Now my mother was being hyper-critical of the fact the house still looked 'unfinished' as well as critical of the choices of furniture and decor we had already selected. The generation gap being what it is, I get that what we like and what she likes are going to be different, but apparently she just assumes that anyone who's taste in furniture is different than hers must be an idiot and I do not appreciate being treated like that. <br />
<br />
Well, at one point, she made what she considered a generous offer and offered to buy us some curtains and furniture for a den that we had not yet worked on and was sitting empty. The only problem was she was insisting on choices that we did not like. She kept waiving the pictures of what she was proposing in our faces and I just asked her to let me 'think about it' but she kept insisting 'what is there to think about.'<br />
<br />
Finally I had had enough and yelled at her. I reminded her that this was not her house and that my wife and I would chose the type of furniture, carpet and drapes and not her. She shot back with that typical mother attitude, not yelling, but stating, "It looks to me like you don't have enough money to furnish this house properly. Here I am offering to help pay for some of the furniture and things and this is the thanks I get..." you know, typical mother crap. <br />
<br />
We I was hurt that she was implying that I was not adequately taking care of my wife, that I was in over my head and that the house was destined to fall apart around me so I blew a gasket and started telling her off. I called a pushy old crab and told her to get the hell out of my house. She simply looked at me turned and left without saying another word and I felt victorious. I had showed my mother I was king of my castle and I made the rules, not her. I felt like I grew up a little and no longer had to cower to my mother's demands. Or so I thought.<br />
<br />
My wife had remained silent through the whole argument with my mother but as soon as she left she spoke up.<br />
<br />
"I can't believe you just threw your mother out of our house."<br />
<br />
As soon as she spoke, I quickly picked up on the fact that she reminded me that this was "Our" house and I had told my mother to get out of "My" house. So clearly my wife did not approve of the singular possessive that I had used. I immediately got defensive,<br />
<br />
"So what? You liked the furniture and curtains she had picked out for us?"<br />
<br />
"No, I didn't, but that is not the point. She was trying to be generous and helpful and you threw her out of our house. She is your mother and she deserves your respect even when you disagree with her."<br />
<br />
I admit, I still didn't get it. We are adults, this is our house, we have the right to run it the way we see fit. My mother was wrong, didn't my wife see this?<br />
<br />
"She was wrong, this is our house. She needs to back off. Do you want her dictating to us our whole life? Your mother is that pushy. Besides, she is my mother and I will treat her the way I see fit."<br />
<br />
With that my wife snapped back "NO!" the sudden assertiveness of her statement caught me off guard. "She is your mother and you will never speak to her that way again. You acted like a spoiled little brat. If you want to be treated like an adult and respected like an adult with your mother than you have to act like an adult and settle your differences like an adult. What you did was appalling. "<br />
<br />
I was still shocked. Who's side was my wife on? "So should I call her back and tell her I changed my mind and we will get the ugly furniture she wants?"<br />
<br />
"That is not the point. You don't get it. This is not about the furniture or the curtains, this is about what you called you mother and the fact that you threw her out of OUR house over something as stupid as a difference in taste of furniture."<br />
<br />
The whole time we were arguing, the thought that my wife would spank me for this never crossed my mind. We were still relatively newly wed and at this point she probably had only spanked me 2 or 3 times. What makes this spanking more memorable was what she had said to me next. She was calmer, more controlled and looked at me as I was lost in my own thoughts, still trying to convince myself that I was right and my wife just did not see it yet.<br />
<br />
She spoke, breaking my concentration with the simple question, "If you were 12 years old and called your mother what you just called her, what would have happened to you?"<br />
<br />
The question shocked me to the core. It was a question which evoke a very deep emotional response. I am sure my wife knew what she was doing by asking it, but I am not sure if she really understood how deep a pain it caused. I know while we were dating we did talk about our parents and how they punished us as children. I had mentioned briefly that the last time I was spanked was shortly before I had turned 13. I was almost a teenager and had thought I was cock of the loft and feeling I was a 'man' and back talked my mother really bad. She pulled me in front of her and I knew she was going to spank me. I quickly reverted back to a little boy and begged and pleaded her not to spank me, but she would hear none of it. She was determined to show me that 12 was not too old to be taken over her knee. She started unbuttoning my jeans and I then quickly started begging her not to pull my pants down, which again fell on deaf ears. I resisted, but of course, this was my mother. I would never out and out fight her back and instead appealed to her sense of mercy to at least let me keep my pants up and how sorry I was to say what I said. <br />
<br />
Soon my jeans were at my knees and I stood before her in my briefs (boxers not yet being popular at the time) I tried to lay down across her lap and surrender to her, but I felt her pushing me back up as she went for my briefs. <br />
<br />
Again, I pleaded, "No mommy, please let me keep my briefs up. I know I deserve to be spanked, just don't pull my underpants down."<br />
<br />
That plea also fell on dear ears and soon my underpants joined my jeans and my hairless genitals came into view. I was very aware of how developed I was at that age having noticed the other boys in the locker room when we changed at the swimming pool. Most had at least some hair and looked further along that I did. Of course now that I know what fully developed men look like, I realize we were all still boys back then, but at least they had something. I was still completely small and hairless at the time. There were 2 or 3 other boys my age who looked young and immature and I confess I did try to catch a glimpse of their development, but like me, the were very discreet in changing and employed strategic use of towels so I never got a good look at them. I concluded that the more developed boys were more open about changing so I came to the conclusion that those few other boys were also lacking in their development like me. Nonetheless, I was mortified to have my lagging development on display to my mother. Even though I had heard the doctor mention it to her after my last physical, it was one thing to hear about it, it was another thing to have her see it. <br />
<br />
So there I was at 12 (three weeks before my 13th birthday) over my mother's knee being spanked just like I was at 8. It was mortifying, but I got that message. I did not back talk my mother again, at least not until now. Now I was sorry I ever told my wife that story. <br />
<br />
I looked at my wife ashamed. It was clear she was going to spank me. By deliberately evoking that memory she was making me feel like I did when I was 12. Back then, I thought I was a man, too big and too cool to listen to my mother. Back then I realized how wrong I was and paid a painful and embarrassing price to that mistake. Today was no different. Today my wife was going to teach me that no matter how old you were, you mother was your mother and if you back talk her, you are never too old to be taken over a knee for a bare bottom spanking. The only difference is it would not be my mother's knee I would be going over, it would be my wife's. The lesson however, would be the same.<br />
<br />
To be continued....<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />rt190http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850489281773392546noreply@blogger.com3