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Thursday, June 22, 2017

Ask and you shall recieve

Woke up this morning in a mood. I'm exhausted- physically and emotionally. The distance starts to play mind games and insecurity crouches in. Needs get abandoned as the waiting game is played out. So, I fantasized. Here is my fantasy:
I knew I was in a mood from the second I woke up. I hadn’t slept well and felt a sinus infection coming on. I rolled over and noticed he had woken before me. Grumbling I headed into the kitchen where I went through the motions of making a cup of coffee. I was sure he had already had at least two. He was chipper and I wanted to throw something at his head. I ignored his greeting and went into the bathroom to shower. Perhaps, the warm water would make me feel better.
It didn’t. When I got out of the shower, I saw him sitting on the edge of the bed putting his shoes on. I still hadn’t said a word to him. He raised an eyebrow at me and I knew it was a silent warning. I huffed and puffed around the room grabbing my clothes. I heard him get up behind me. The click of the door being locked had me turn towards him.
“Ok. Spill.” He commanded
“What?” I nearly growled. “I haven’t down anything wrong.” His eyebrows rose again.
“Want to try that again?”
I stood there for a second and thought about things. We had been in this relationship way too long for me to purposely act out for discipline. It wasn’t who I was; it wasn’t who we as a couple were. Most of the discipline came from me simply not thinking before acting and getting myself into situations that I shouldn’t be in. Blatant disrespect wasn’t something I did. I thought about the past few days and the stress that had built up. I knew what I needed.
I looked at the floor, because even after all these years, asking for what I needed was still a bit embarrassing and humiliating. “I need a spanking.” I muttered.
“Baby, look at me.” He commanded, his words were soft and encouraging. He knew what it took for me to ask and he knew if I was asking it was something I needed. He also knew, because he knew me, which it would have to be hard enough to get me to a release point. I needed to cry. I needed to let go. I needed to feel dominated. “Look at me.” I still hadn’t looked up. I felt humiliated. Why did I need to look at him?
He put his hand under my chin and guided my face up to meet his. “Thank you for…” I interrupted him before he got any further.
“You know what, never mind!” I shouted. I shouldn’t have asked. What had gotten into me? I didn’t want a spanking! I must be nuts! Deep down, as much as I didn’t want the pain associated with the spanking, I knew I NEEDED one. I turned and started heading to the door.
“You will stop right there.” My heart rushed to my stomach at his tone. It was his dom tone. He took my arm and turned me towards him. “I was about to say thank you for letting me know what you needed and let you know how proud I was of you for being able to ask.” He lectured. “Even if you had changed your mind, which I still would have spanked you regardless, the attitude and disrespect has earned you a nice little trip over my knee anyway.”
He guided me to the bed where he sat. He removed my towel and guided my over his knee. He knew me. It was evident in how he locked his leg over both of mine and pinned my hand to the small of my back. He held nothing back as his hand met my bare ass. It fell over and over and I felt the warmth start to spread. He was silent, as he knew this kind of spanking didn’t need words. I gasped when his hand met my sit spot but remained otherwise quite. He spanked and spanked until my legs started to kick and I finally cried out in pain.
He paused then, for a brief second. He knew I hadn’t gotten to the point of release yet. He could feel the stiffness in my body and heard it in my tone. He opened the top drawer of the night stand and pulled out the wooden hairbrush. Wood was used only for discipline, to get a point across. I hate wooden implements and everything to do with them. He rested the cool, smooth head of the brush against my warm, pink butt and I cringed.
“Please don’t!” I begged
“I hear you, love. However, part of me being the boss means making sure you are taken care of, including emotionally. It also means that I get to pick what implements I spank you with.” He said nothing else but let the hairbrush do the talking. I cried out from the first swat. The thudding pain hurt and he continued. He raised his arm and it came down over and over. I felt the panic swell in my chest as I realized I was trapped. I couldn’t move or avoid the swats. My brain was reeling and then, as the brush came down on my sit spot and the top of my thighs, I stopped thinking. I just felt. I felt the pain of the brush connecting with my skin. I felt each swat deep inside. I stopped fighting and I let go. Tears rolled down my face.
He felt the change and my body relax. He intensified the strength and the speed of the swats, covering my entire butt and sit spot until I started sobbing. Then he stopped. He put the brush on the bed and rubbed my back and stroked my hair until I stopped crying. Then he gathered me into his strong arms and kissed me.
“Thank you.” I whispered, “For doing exactly what I needed.” For the rest of the day, whenever I sat on my now bruised butt, I smiled thinking about the man who met all of my needs and new me so well. Excited, for I knew he would want to make use of the lasting pain that night in bed.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

What kind of story do you want to read next?

I have a couple going:

1. A viking BDSM element story
2. A modern day DD story
3. A post apocalyptic DD/BDSM story

Let me know and I will start posting away again :)

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Update & A Story

We have been utilizing D/s or DD depending on your definition again. We've also bought some fun new toys :) I would love to review (I have NO affiliation with any website, brand or maker.) In addition, I've started writing again. He is overseas once more doing 3 month deployed 2 week home rotations. I love how he has been able to stay consistent and on top of things since he has been on this rotation, but BOY did my butt hurt last time he was home (and he's due again soon!)

I've been writing on fetlife (SpankedArmyWife) and I created a spanko fb profile. Email me at spankedarmywife@gmail.com if you would like access to that profile.

I am writing a delicious story write now on Fet about a pack of modern day vikings. I also joined a monthly writing challenge.

Here is this month's challenge.

He was a Navy Seal. He didn't tell me that. In fact, I am unsure that he would have ever told me that. I found out by snooping in his bags...
We had met on a chatroom called, "The Dungeon." It was a yahoo chatroom over a dozen years ago. I was a sophomore in college. Straight A's, elected to student government, homecoming court nominee for my sorority. I belonged to an organization called, "Greeks for Christ." Fraternity and sorority members dedicated to living a Christian lifestyle while in school... all while chatting in a group called, "The Dungeon." The backstory here is glorious, but, alas, that is not what this is about.
One day he private messaged me. I was 19 and he was 28. He was handsome, strong and had a way with language that attracted me to him right away. Before I knew it, we were talking multiple times a day and I had moved on from "The Dungeon" to a private, Gor room. A shiny room full of etiquette, training and play with some of my new "sister kajiras." Honor, commitment, loyalty, obedience... it was all enforced. We had silks and collars.
For months, I had this hidden, "relationship" with him. He would have me randomly check in on my cell phone. I would scribble the date and the time, to the minute, on a piece of my body and send it to him. Every morning I sent him my schedule for the day. He owned me and I loved it.
Then, one day, he told me he would be in my area. Two hours away, the closest he had ever been. Could I come? There was no hesitation. Of course. He was flying from VA to IL to speak at some Navy event in Chicago.
We went out to dinner that night. I wore exactly what he told me to wear. I shaved where he told me to shave. My hair was down, flowing, the way he liked it. My bra and underwear were what he had sent to me. Early that morning, I had been at a college event with my best friend. When I look at the picture of us, with our school mascot in the middle, it takes me back to that night.
In the anxiety of his arrival, I had been a bit short with him. Had a bit of a small verbal temper tantrum and I knew he was unpleased. He hadn't called me his, "good girl" in two days- intentional- everything with him was intentional. I would earn it back, I had no doubt. It had been months since I had been spanked, by a previous boyfriend but he told me that my fast was about to end.
I sat beside him in the booth, not across from him. His orders. Throughout dinner, I inhaled his scent. He caressed the back of my neck. His hand travelled up my skirt. The food- I can't remember what he ordered for me. I knew I was to be dessert.
On the drive to the hotel he spoke and I listened. He told me he was displeased that my skin had gotten sunburned, the only thing to make my skin red, would be him. I think about that even now, all these years later, when I get too much sun. He told me exactly what he wanted me to do when we got to the room. Which position he wanted me in, on the floor before him. The Gorean training was not just in the chatroom. He trained me, over the phone and via Skype. I learned the positions. I learned where my palms rested, how far apart my legs were to be spread.
The first position he had me in was inspect. He inspected me very thoroughly. I held completely still with as much discipline as I could muster. It was very different having him there, his breath on my skin than it was over the phone. He then had me switch to, "punish." My heart raced so fast I thought I was going to faint. As I held the position he listed my list of wrong doing. He sat on the end of the bed and called me to him.
In all my years of being spanked... this spanking has easily weighed on me the most in my memory. It was nothing over the top necessarily as much as it was the mood. The sexual tension between us was so incredibly high, but he hadn't kissed me yet. He started with his hand. A hand that felt every bit as strong as wood. It came down over and over, hard. He talked to me as he spanked. He let me know why I was being spanked. He told me how disappointed the actions had made him- especially because it devalued who I was as a person- and he said, "but when we are all done, that is over. It is behind us and we won't speak of it again." I remember those words. Those beautiful words of forgiveness. With him, I knew he meant it.
The first hard swat from the bath brush took my breath away. Oh my God, the bite on that thing. It hurt more than any other implement I had ever felt. He didn't hold back, either. It covered every inch of my butt, my sit spot and the tops of my thighs. The deep bruises it left would stay with me for days. He continued to talk to me. Tell me his expectations of a woman of grace, of intelligence and of class. Told me how that was the only type of woman I was allowed to be.
After, he stood me up and commanded, "nadu" and I immediately went into position. I remember how my ass hurt pressed against my feet. He stood above me and looked at me for the longest time. Then he smiled. I knew then, all was right.
He took my anal virginity that night... but, he took it well. He was gentle and slow at first, applying a vibrator to my clit. I was every bit of his sex slave. Every hole was filled with his cum and I would feel the soreness in my mouth from it being stretched so much that night. He gagged me with his dick, tears springing to my eyes, but I greedily took it. To have the privilege of pleasing my Master... was better than anything I had imagined. He was rough when he wanted to be and he was gentle. I couldn't sleep that night and he grabbed me, pulled me to his side very firmly and firmly ordered, "Go to sleep now." I am unsure of the spell he had me under, but it worked and I slept. Content in his arms. I don't like being touched when I am sleeping, but, in his arms, it was like I was an extension of his body and not my own.
When I think of one night stands, I think of that one. For the next couple months we continued with our relationship, often talking about the "next time" we would see each other. But then, 11 September happened. We were attacked and without much notice at all, he disappeared. He commanded I not wait for him but move on, enjoy college. It took everything in me to obey that command. I would read the letter he sent time and time again. "Obey me in this, so that I am not distracted by your waiting for me." When he had reappeared, I had moved past Gor and I thought, past bdsm all together.
Yet, here I am.