Life is Good

I may be feeling anxious.  I might be just a little wound up inside.  Just letting you know.

About anything in particular?  Or should I just handle it my way?

I guess about company coming and the house isn’t how I want it and I’m not very comfortable playing hostess, especially when you’re gone.

Well, I can help with the house and I can give you a stress reliever tonight.

*sigh*  It’s all just ganging up on me emotionally I guess.

I then proceeded to list a bunch of things that I was feeling upset about, anxious about, worried about.

Deep breath mama, I’m on my way home.

I took a deep breath, but continued with my list.

Breathe honey, breathe.  I’ll be home soon.

Thanks sweetie, I love you!  See you soon.


That was the text conversation late Saturday morning between Michael and I.  I was feeling stressed out and overwhelmed and I was missing my husband and wishing he was home already.  But after our conversation I was able to focus that energy and I started working on the house.  Michael didn’t end up getting home until mid afternoon, but he pitched in and we got quite a bit accomplished.

As you may or may not know, weekly maintenance has been moved to Saturday nights and though it was late by the time we got around to it, there was no way Michael was going to skip it.  Since it was after midnight, it was technically Sunday already.  So yes, I was spanked on Mother’s Day.  I was also spoiled.  When I woke up Sunday morning Michael was already fixing breakfast and homemade cards from the kids and a card from Michael along with beautiful flowers were waiting for me when I came downstairs.  It was a really nice day and actually, once I moved past my anxiety on Saturday, it was a really nice weekend.


On my way home in a few minutes.

Okay.  : )  Did you say you were going to spank me tonight?

I can probably arrange that.  ;)

Yes please, something I’ll remember for awhile.  That is, if it pleases you, Sir.  Oh, and I’ll protest later of course.

I’d expect nothing less!


That was the text conversation between Michael and I around dinner time last night.  I was so happy to see him when he got home.  I’d been worked up all day long thinking about him.  I had asked if I could, um, relieve some of that tension before he got home, but his answer was no, of course.  Once he was home there were a few smacks here and there, a little attention paid to my nipples, some deep kisses, but by the time we headed to bed I was pretty tired and not so sure I was interested in more at that point.  I got ready for bed, climbed in and pulled up the covers.  Michael asked me if I still wanted some attention and I said that it was late, we were both tired and that we should just go to sleep.  He said that wasn’t what he asked, he wanted to know if I still wanted or needed some attention.  I bit my lower lip and searched myself for the answer.  I told him that I probably could use a little attention, but that I didn’t think I needed much.

That was all he needed to hear and suddenly I was being pulled up out of bed and stripped.  He had me get into position, at the foot of the bed on my elbows and knees.  He cycled through several implements and finally settled on the rattan cane.  It’s not as long as it used to be because he broke it…no, not on me, thankfully!  Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, it still works just fine; it’s just a little bit shorter than it was originally.  He was certainly leaving his mark with the cane, sometimes harder, sometimes lighter, sometimes a moment between swats, sometimes several close together.  I struggled to hold my position and not make too much noise.  Then he set the cane down and picked up the leather slapper.  He pushed my legs farther apart and started slapping between them.  While I was thankful for the break from the cane, I don’t think I need to tell you what a sensitive area that is!

Then it was time for a position change…onto my back, pillow under my hips, knees pulled up to my chest…and yes, he made me hold them in place.  I don’t honestly remember at this point whether he used the cane or the slapper on me first in this position, but he used both.  It was pretty hard to stay in position, especially when the cane would hit a spot where it had already left its mark.  My thighs weren’t off limits either, though thankfully he didn’t concentrate his efforts there.  That sit spot though, right where my bottom meets my thighs, oh yes, he made sure to pay special attention to that area.

When he had me get up I dared to hope that he was through, but he had me bend over the foot of the bed.  He was checking out my bottom, seeing how it looked, checking to see if both sides matched nicely.  Unfortunately one cheek needed a bit more attention and several quick strokes were applied to remedy the situation.

You know, I just realized that I left out the bit where Michael had me get down on my knees and service him.  My mouth was a vessel to be filled, and filled it was.  My hands rested on his thighs and his hand was on the back of my head, controlling my movements, holding me in place as he thrust in and out.  I don’t even recall where in the series of events that fell.  I do know that my bottom was already tender by then though.  Michael says I’m always more eager to please then.  I wish I could argue with him, but I’m afraid he’s right.

When he was done with the cane, he brought me over to the mirror to see his handiwork.  My bottom was quite red and I could see stripes painted on my cheeks and thighs here and there.  Well, I had asked for something I’d remember, hadn’t I?

Then I was lying on my back, my bottom on the edge of the bed…okay, hanging off the edge of the bed actually.  Our bed sits high compared to some people’s, though not as high as a family member of ours…at least I don’t need a step stool to get into bed like she does.  With each thrust I could feel Michael’s balls slapping against my hot, tender bottom, it was almost like being spanked more.  Then he stopped.  He’d decided that there was one area that hadn’t been paid proper attention.  No, it wasn’t my nipples.  He’d been pinching and squeezing and pulling on them on and off the whole time.  Out of the drawer came the lube and the smaller butt plug and in it went.  Satisfied, having enjoyed making me hold my legs up for him to insert it, having enjoyed watching me squirm and the expression on my face as the plug slid in, he entered me again.  This time he was a man on a mission and it wasn’t long before we were both riding high on those waves and then crashing on the shore together.

Before cuddling though, he rolled me onto my back and started spanking me.  It was just a few swats on each cheek, but believe me, I felt them.  Then he lay next to me and pulled me close.  He told me how much he loves me and I thanked him for taking such good care of me.  We fell asleep, spent and content, curled up together.

Needless to say, I’m having a wonderful week, despite sitting on a sore bottom as I type this…or maybe, because of it?  No, certainly that couldn’t be it.  Our company is off sightseeing today.  Our daughter went with them, Michael is back at work, and our son and I are chilling out at home today.  Life is good.  : )


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