We're back!

Nick, Morgan and I just got back from our vacation. It was too short! But we really had a lovely time. We went up to the cabin on Wednesday, where Nick's grandparents left us the keys and the fixings for a steak dinner. We didn't do a whole lot on Wednesday other than unpack and just kind of chill out.

Thursday we went to a local amusement park we have season passes to, where Morgan very bravely rode a couple of water rides she previously hated. This time she decided that the roller coaster one just tickled her belly a bit, and the other one was very funny in that Mommy got soaked.

Friday we had to come back in to get Nick's paycheck and pay some bills, not to mention feed the dog (when you have a house full of spanko toys it kind of puts a damper on asking anyone to feed the pets for you). We had planned to have some friends up to the cabin for a cookout that night, but the husband ended up having to work late, so we just headed into a nearby mountain town to do cheesy touristy stuff. I found a fun hand shaped flyswatter like these (I ran out of room on my camera, so this shot I found online) which will be good for play.


Yesterday we did some swimming and Nick and I both ended up sunburned (not lack of sunscreen, just pale, Irish skin). A bit later Nick did some very successful fishing until Morgan decided to join him and "help". It turns out that little feet stomping across a dock is a bit of a tell for the fish.

Today was pack up and go day, so we got the cabin in shape and took off for some putt-putt, then swung back by the cabin to load everything up.

Okay, that's the family part. Here's the couple part:

The spanking I was due didn't happen before we left, somewhat to my frustration, because I figured that he just wouldn't want to deal with it during our time off together. I mentioned it on Wednesday, and we had a short, poorly timed conversation (he was very close to falling asleep) that ended with him saying something like "I'm sorry I've not gotten to it, but this isn't my thing, so sometimes you may have to remind me." Okay, for me "This isn't my thing" is a conversation ender. Whether he means it this way or not, the way it comes across is "You aren't my thing." And deep down inside, I know that he doesn't mean it that way, but it just stabs at every insecurity I have as a spanko.

So, I very cheerfully said, "Okay!", turned out the lamp, turned over, and let him drift off to sleep, which took about 35 seconds. Then I got up, went out on the porch, and bawled my eyes out for an hour. But I honestly wasn't just out there feeling sorry for myself. I spent the time taking a serious look at what DD meant to us as a couple, and I decided that just maybe I've been asking Nick to be something he isn't, and that maybe that's not such a healthy thing. So I cried some more, and prayed, and cried yet some more, and decided that he'd given me 2 1/2 good years of DD, and that it was time to let it go. It just hadn't felt like we were a team for a while, and I felt like maybe DD and my expectations of it were part of the reason. I never wanted to make him live his life in a mold that didn't fit.

I decided that rather than making a big dramatic announcement ("You're free!") that would doubtless lead to a big messy crying fit on my part that I would just stop bringing it up. Ever. I would leave it up to him to continue with DD if he wanted, still treating him respectfully and as HoH, but I would put away all the implements at home and never mention spanking again. And eventually, when months passed without him bringing it up, I could stop thinking about it every day.

So I cried myself out and went to bed, and tried hard to forget that I'm a spanko. But a hundred things went wrong, from the cancelled cookout on Friday which was rescheduled for Saturday and then recancelled for the same reason to the depressing process of having to take time out of our vacation to deal with money issues, which put Nick in a bad mood. I just couldn't get past the nameless ache in my heart that I knew was rooted in the decision that I nonetheless felt was right.

This morning I got up early and fixed myself breakfast, then hung out and read a magazine. Nick joined me before I had my Toaster Streudel out of the toaster, and he watched me read and studiously avoid any attempt to draw me into conversation. Then he got up and came back with this.
Now this was something we got for Nick's grandfather a few years ago. It's the sturdiest flyswatter known to man. The handle is made from a fishing rod (thus, a "fly rod" for those of you who will appreciate the humor). Okay, now I had a problem. Clearly he intended to make good on the promised spanking, so now I had to tell him what I had decided. The conversation went something like this:

"Look, can we talk about this for a minute?"

"Nope. There's nothing to talk about. I want you to get your butt up."

"No, seriously. I need to tell you something. I...I think maybe it's time we let this go. No, wait, I'm serious! I've given this a lot of thought, and I feel like maybe this has been enough. You've given me two and 1/2 years of DD, and I can't keep asking this from you..."

"I don't care what you thought - this is going to happen. You've had a bad attitude for weeks, and we're going to take care of it right now. Now get up!"

At that point I decided that maybe it would be best to just take the spanking and try to explain afterwards, when it wouldn't look like I was just trying to get out of it. So I asked him to close the blinds (we were on the screened-in porch) and the curtains that looked out from the living room in case Morgan woke up. He agreed and ordered me to pull down my pants and panties and bend over the ottoman. I obeyed, and was in position by the time he got back out.

Okay, to say that I got spanked is like saying Hiroshima went through a bit of a bombing. I got SPANKED. He started with the flyswatter, which feels like a thousand angry bees. Then, when he wasn't sure he was getting his point across, he began spanking with his hand. His hand hurt worse than I ever remember it doing before, and when his hand got tired, he took off his belt. Now I HATE getting spanked with his belt. It just plain hurts like nobody's business. And he doesn't use it very often. He doesn't have to. He alternated between the flyswatter, his hand, and his belt for the whole punishment. I have no idea how long the spanking went on, but I do know that I spent most of it begging him to stop and promising to do absolutely anything he wanted me to. He answered the promises with, " I want you to change your attitude" which I swiftly agreed to. I was near tears before the first swat, so I was sobbing like a baby by the time it was over. (Thankfully the neighbors were all gone).

When he was finished he let me go to the bathroom, and I came back, wiping my eyes and determined to have this conversation. What I got was a much needed and very reassuring lecture about how there was no way he was giving up DD. He told me that we both had contributed to the recent distance between us, but that he felt like it was mostly his fault, because he'd just been letting me get away with too much, which didn't leave me feeling very safe. He said that he hadn't taken advantage of the opportunities he'd had to bring me back in line, that he hadn't been taking care of me the way he should, and that all of that was changing as of now.

Of course all of that did exactly what it was supposed to, which was jerk me back into line and address the issues that made me spiral in the first place. One issue that has been a serious bone of contention between us lately has been the laundry, so, feeling quite brave, I told him that I felt like I really should have done better with it, and that maybe until it's all finished, I should be punished every night. He said that was a rather fine idea, at which point all my bravery fled, and I tried to invoke the 30-second rule on my suggestion. That didn't work, so apparently starting tomorrow I'll be getting spanked every night until the laundry is done.

My husband is just the greatest guy ever. I've not exactly been a picnic to live with myself, and that's not his fault. But still he stepped in and calmed my fears and reset my heart and checked me before I could do something that would ultimately hurt us both. He could see that this is something we both need, and also that I was projecting my fears about it onto him. He's so good to me.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart.