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March, 2009

The Matchmaking Conundrum

By March 18, 2009 Domestic Discipline

Here’s a fantasy that James and I share: to have some real life friends somewhere around our age that also believe in DD/CDD. Just to go camping with, go on picnics, go to the movies, bowling, dinner parties—the kind of things we do with our non-spanking friends! But it’s hard for us to find any in the area. And let’s face it, if they invent teleporting tomorrow and we were suddenly able to teleport from Austin to Timbuktu in a heartbeat—it would STILL be a problem.

And here’s why: they’re hard to find. Couples that practice DD are really hard to find and what’s HARDER to find is a DD relationship if you’re a single person, so if we do have a friend who’s into DD, double-dating is still off because it’s so hard to get that person together with someone who’s not old, bald, and creepy.

And I know why! Because many women of my generation—women in their late teens, twenties, and early thirties, were raised in a culture completely dominated by radical feminism. And some of us rebelled—at least subconsciously. We fought “the Man”, except this time “the Man” wasn’t a patriarchal head of household figure or an old white guy. Instead “the Man” was Gloria Steinem and Molly Ivins and the National Organization for Women. Some of us want to be housewives, and stay home when we have young children. And many who do have careers outside the home still want to feel taken care of and watched over when they are at home.

Men of my generation, on the other hand, grew up thinking that women are equal in every single way, or hell—better than them. And if you hit one, you’re toast (which is a good thing). However, they have also had it pounded into their heads that spanking = hitting, and thus they are not willing to spank when it is called for. Also, so many men (and women, of course, but let’s look at men) don’t feel that they should lead by example—they don’t have to anymore. Their wives are going to take care of them and their lives and they can sit watching football all day long, drinking beer, and being lazy. In essence, they can be Homer Simpson, and get away with it. That is what society expects of them, and they are more than willing to fulfill those lousy expectations.

This is not their fault alone—today’s society created these people. For centuries, men have been expected to provide for and protect their families, to treat women with chivalry, to work hard and try to do what is right, and to teach their sons to do the same. Not all men lived up to these expectations, of course, but those who did were treated with respect by their wives and by society at large. Now, in the last fifty years, society has told men that they don’t need to be the head of their household! Those men who try to act as head of household (with or without any form of discipline to enforce their decisions) are portrayed in popular culture as chauvinistic, insecure, violent, and sexually repressed, among other things. In fact, men are often treated as if they’re not needed in society at all. Women will do everything. Just put your sperm in the jar before you leave the planet so there can be future generations. When men are raised with those sorts of values, and they can behave that way and still get sex (often without even needing to get married), it is easy to understand why so many men just go with the flow, and sink to the level society expects of them.

Meanwhile, many men of the baby boomer generation have seen the problems that feminists have created (with the willing collaboration of lazy men). They see the high divorce rate, broken families, disrespectful children, and a generally cruder culture. Many of them just want a return to more traditional gender roles in society. Others of them are divorced and think that DD could have helped their previous marriage. Some, unfortunately, have become embittered by women and want revenge of some sort.

A significant number of these men are now looking for relationships where they are the unquestioned head of the household. In some cases they are now looking for a DD relationship, or a relationship that includes spanking or some other form of discipline. Sadly, though, these guys a lot of times have no idea what they are doing, or they are dramatically disillusioned.

Due to the anti-feminist rebellion of many in the younger generation of women and the large number of aging, divorced baby-boomer men, there is a HUGE age gap between women and men who are looking for DD relationships.

I’m not talking about EVERYONE, obviously. I’m just making generalizations from what I witness on various blogs, forums, and personal sites.

However, my heart really, truly goes out to the poor young women—of marrying age, particularly, who want to settle down with a man who can provide for them, care for them, and discipline them when they need it. There seem to be few of them to be found where the women are looking, and probably it’s just such a small population anyway and they’re hard to bring out into the light. Society does not look kindly on a man who openly admits that he spanks his wife when necessary. Some of these men (and women, of course) don’t even know that there are other people like them.

Women tend to think more on the issue—they want discipline. They read stories about it and have really made it a huge fantasy that many feel they can’t be happy without. Their soul yearns for it.

I’ve said it before: I want to help people get together. I want everyone to experience the personal fulfillment and joy I feel on a daily basis. And so I’ve resolved to find the best ways to match up folks. And yes—I feel everyone should be matched up. Personally, I don’t favor the “free sex” lifestyle of modern day America, where women are expected to drop their pants and destroy their modesty on the first date. It’s not all about sex.

ABCD webmasters (the group behind Bethany’s Woodshed and Romanic Spankings, among others) is coming out with a social network, where everybody who likes spanking can come together and sing camp songs or whatever, and I’m administrator of that site, but we’re not going to go to personals right out of the shoot.

Right now, it’s Spanking Internet. That is the site on which I met James, and so I am eternally grateful. HOWEVER—there are a LOT of creeps on there. They’re unchecked, and they’re sometimes very spooky, and they often overshadow the normal guys, so beware! When I met James, there wasn’t a way, unless you were a paid member, to search only within a given age range, but fortunately now there is, which makes it easier. It is also free to use the personals section.

So take heart, you lonely DDers! Things will look better by this summer, thanks to technology, and it is my pleasure to try to help you, advise you, and do everything I can. Read the first few posts I’ve made on this blog if you’ve never been in a DD relationship before, or if you’re just starting to look. There’s good stuff there.

If you need any advice, though—my husband and I are also here for you. My email’s or, I check both. Don’t hesitate to drop me a line. And always make read receipts with me to make sure your email’s going through. You’d be AMAZED how many problems I have with that!

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Three Spankings in One Day

By March 14, 2009 Domestic Discipline

What are you talking about, Korey? You’ve been so good, lately! How can you earn THREE spankings in 24 hours?!

Actually… I haven’t been that good this month. I’ve gotten a spanking here and there, I just didn’t write a blog about it. Trust me, if I wrote about EVERY spanking I ever got, I’d begin to sound tedious. Though, I must admit, I don’t think I’ve yet earned 3 decent spankings in one day before.

The second spanking of the trio was the main event, but I know ya’ll like a good lead-up.

The first spanking happened on Thursday evening, because I was cleaning and threw away a crazy blue thing I found on the counter. In my defense, it looked like an air sealer; a piece of trash—the thing you rip off of the kitty litter tub so that you can open it. It’s long and has a hole in one end. Only this one was small and blue. I SUPPOSE it was something important from one of James’ professor’s classes that he was teaching as a stand-in professor, that James was messing with and broke in half accidently. In fact, he wasn’t the first to do this. Another student was messing with it and broke it in half, but James re-broke it, and was re-gluing it back together. Which is why it was on the counter.

James is a pretty decent human being, you’re thinking. How can he spank you for throwing out something that you had every reason to think was a piece of trash?

Because I suppose he was talking to me about all this just five minutes before I got up and started to clean; I just wasn’t paying attention. I was probably trying to pay attention, mind you, only I was reading my computer screen, and although sometimes I convince myself otherwise, I can’t read and listen at the same time.

Anyway, it didn’t look good when he walked by and saw the blue thing in the trash. He was confused, and wondered if he threw it away accidentally, or if it had gotten knocked off the counter unintentionally. He asked if I put it in the trash, and I said, “Yeah. That blue thing? It’s in the trash.” Because, again, I was not listening to the story, AND he doesn’t like me throwing away stuff when I don’t even know what it is.

He called me into the kitchen, and told me to take off my pants. As I was arguing that is LOOKED like garbage, he tugged down my jeans and panties in a swoop and bent me over the counter. Then, to add insult to injury, he took off MY belt (which I guess makes sense, because James doesn’t wear pants too large for him so he doesn’t wear belts very often), and started to spank me with it.

I don’t really like belts, and I’ll tell you why: they’re really hard to aim. And you can feel the aiming struggle on your tush. So, since James was standing on my left side, the worst of each spank was mostly on the far right side of my right cheek. It was only 10 strokes, but still—there were nine strokes in one area. Until the 10th stroke.

OH, GOD. THE 10th STROKE. That landed on the inside of my left thigh, somehow. There’s still a welt, nearly 48 hours after the event.
TIP OF THE DAY: Try your best to get your husband/spanker to NOT spank the inner thigh area. The thigh area is what stories refer to as “Delicate Flesh”. And I don’t think spanking bruises are very sexy. Refer to the picture below:

See? Bruises aren’t incredibly hot. To me. Some people like them. Some people like going on those Russian Woodshed sites, too. But I think they’re scary.

The Third Spanking of the Day

Come on, Korey. Where’d this 2nd spanking go?

I’m saving it until the end for dramatic effect.

So; my workout ball, for some reason, pries the paint away from the wall where I put it every day. I don’t know why it does this. Weird latex on the ball/weak wall paint, who knows? I keep putting it on the same spot because I figure I’m going to have to repaint that spot, anyway. UNFORTUNATELY, James didn’t quite agree with my way of thinking. He happened to move my ball away from its normal spot just last night, and he was shocked when he saw the paint peeling away from the ball. He was noticing this for the first time, since he never uses the ball. He informed me about it, expecting me to be equally surprised.

I was not surprised by the news. I’d noticed two months ago that it was doing that. Of course, my lack of a surprised expression let loose the fact that I knew about it and was allowing it to continue, without mentioning it to James or doing anything to remedy the problem. So, my pants were back down for the second time in one evening. Luckily, he just used his hand, but my bottom was already totally swollen from spanking number two. However, after spanking number two, the last thing I expected was to be back across his knee only hours after the event.

*Cough Cough*. Spanking Two?

Alright, alright. So, I’m just sitting on my computer when I get a Skype message. James and I met over the internet, and we still really enjoy IMing each other during work. So, you get to read a conversation between us, that he began as soon as I got off the phone with a friend. As you may know, James is helping me get to my goal weight by making sure I exercise every day and making me keep a food journal. But… I haven’t been keeping it for a while, especially since I took ill. But, now that I’m mostly healed, I get this message:

James: I have to go to another meeting at 3:00, but we need to discuss something first. Let me have your full attention for a few minutes.

Korey: Sure.

James: Go and get your food journal off the counter.

Korey: Okay.

Korey: Why?

James: When was the last time you wrote anything in it?

Korey: When my neck went out.

Korey: Thursday.

James: I looked this morning, and the last day you had anything written down was March 2nd.

James: Is that correct?

Korey: Let me check.

Korey: You’re right. The 2nd. But I got that cough and stuff… After which, I probably dropped doing it.

James: March 2nd was the Monday before this one. You were still up and around without any major problem at least until that Wednesday, because we went to watch a movie over at Chris and Miranda’s place.

Korey: I don’t remember. I’m sorry; I don’t know why I stopped doing it. I was just assuming it was the cough, since normally I was good for a long time of writing in it when I was healthy.

James: But moreover, while I completely understand that you couldn’t work out while your neck was having problems, there is no reason you shouldn’t have still been keeping your food journal. You were still eating during that time. I would have been more than willing to help, bring it to you, whatever you wanted. But even with that in mind, I still wouldn’t have had a big problem if you had forgotten it on a couple of the days where you were doing really badly. But there is no excuse at all for you just not doing it for 10 days.

James: I didn’t check until now, because I assumed you were still doing it, since you even mentioned it in your blog entry.

Korey: You’re right; I haven’t been doing it. I’m sorry, honey.

James: I am not angry at you, sweetie. I love you very much, but I’m going to make sure you remember from now on. Forgetting one day, especially when you are sick, is not a big issue. Forgetting for 10 days is an issue, especially since we talked so much, so many times, about how we were going to try some things differently for a month. Of course the working out part isn’t your fault, but the food journal is your responsibility. I know you didn’t disobey me on purpose, but that isn’t the point. We have had this same discussion at least three or four times now, about other things, including your prior food journal on the Livestrong website and eating your yogurt.

Korey: You’re right. I’m sorry.

James: You need to take whatever action you need to take in order to remember each day. If that means you set a daily alarm for a certain time to remind you, that is fine. Other people do that, it is very easy with a cell phone. Or you can use a calender with check boxes, or whatever else you want. But it is something you need to take responsibility for.

Korey: I’ll figure out a way to remember it.

James: I’m discussing this with you on Skype rather than in person for three reasons. One, as you’ve said before, I’m stricter on Skype, and I need to be strict about this. Two, it lets me write out what I want to say, and think about it for a second, before sending it to you.

James: The third reason is that in the past, when I’ve spanked you, I’ve always told you about it right before it happened, even if I’d been planning to spank you for a few hours or more. I do this because I don’t want you to spend the whole day thinking about it.

Korey: Honey, just give me another chance one more time. I’ll do the food journal.

James: However, it might be useful for you to have a couple of hours to think about why you are being spanked, so you aren’t still in the process of trying to argue your way out of it when it actually happens.

James: There is no point in arguing with me about this sweetie. I only asked you about it because I wanted to make sure you hadn’t started using some other journal, or writing it in a Word document, or something like that.

Korey: I really think that if you give me another chance, you won’t have to spank me. I’ll do just as good without one.

James: I didn’t tell you this morning because I didn’t want you to have to worry about it all day.

James: Sweetie, you are going to get a spanking, this issue of you forgetting to do things we both agree you need to do has gone on too long.

James: I’m telling you now because I want you to be able to have a little time to think about why you are going to be spanked.

James: I will be home around 5:00. We’ll take care of your spanking then, so it won’t get in the way of us enjoying the rest of the evening.

Korey: Please, honey. I’ll do better. What do you want me to say?

James: There is nothing I expect you to say, sweetie. I decided on the way to work this morning that I was going to spank you.

James: I do want you to do two things, however.

Korey: What?

James: The first is, you will come up with a plan for how this will not happen in the future. That could be a cell phone alarm, calendar, whatever it is that you want. But I want you to know what it will be, and I want you to write your plan down on a piece of paper.

Korey: I’ll make an alarm on my outlook calendar. I don’t have to write it down–I’m writing it right now.

James: Second, you will be ready for your spanking when I get home. This is part of your punishment. I’ll text message you when I’m about 5 minutes away, so you have time to get ready.

James: Sweetie, I don’t think you are understanding that I’m quite serious about this. You need to stop arguing, or this will be a much longer spanking than it is already going to be.

James: You will write it down, on a piece of paper, which will be on the bed when I get home.

James: Next to the paper will be the paddle (which is currently in your sock drawer), and one of my belts from the closet.

James: You will be in only your panties, in the corner of the room.

James: I’m going to try to be a little more formal about this, so that you get the message this time.

James: This will be at least the fourth spanking I’ve given you for something like this, and each time previously you’ve told me you would make sure to remember from now on. This time I’m going to make sure you take me seriously.

Korey: Honey, isn’t the paddle a little too harsh? I have a very low pain tolerance.

James: Sweetie, you know I love you very much, and I am not going to leave you black and blue or anything like that. However, you need to understand that I’m not going to want argument about this.

Alright, honey.

What about dinner? I’m normally in the middle of it when you get home.

We’ll worry about that after your spanking. You’ll have to decide whether you still want to go to the movie. I’ll still be glad to take you. You can also decide if you want to make dinner, or we can go out and get something, or we can have sandwiches and stuff.

James: I have to go to the meeting. I love you very much. I will be home between 4:30 and 5:00. I’ll text message you when I’m about 5 or 10 minutes away, so make sure your phone is on.

So, needless to say, my internet begging didn’t work. I only have two weapons to use against a spanking. One of my weapons, James said, is acting sad, and the second is acting like James is being unreasonable and/or mean by spanking me over what I consider to be little stuff. In person, I’m quite good at wielding both of these weapons, and both of them together are a powerful combination, which is why I don’t get spanked nearly as often as I otherwise might. So, James was trying “Skype Sentencing” to carry out a pre-spanking lecture without getting taken down by my weapons. It is much harder for my sad face and my “Aren’t you being mean James?” tone to work in a text based format.

Long before James got home, I cleaned the house (thinking that a dirty one will make my punishment worse), and laid out one of his belts (the thinnest one) and the… paddle (Grumble. And if you want to know WHY I’m grumbling, read my post about the new paddle.) and I write down what my plan is for remembering the food journal on a piece of paper and lay out everything on the bed.

It’s actually quite good that I had all that laid out beforehand, because I never got James’ text message—sometimes those things don’t get through, even though he showed me later on his phone that he sent one. When I heard him pull up in the driveway, I quickly rushed into the bedroom and took off all my clothes and stood in the corner in just my panties. It’s cold outside—about 60 degrees, and I was shivering next to the window in the corner I chose to stand in.

James came in and thanked me for doing everything I was supposed to, and called me out of the corner to stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He asked me if I understood why I was being spanked, and I told him I did. I didn’t argue like I normally do—that would only make it worse, and I was hoping that he would keep my panties on for my good behavior. And when he pulled me over his knee, I thought I’d be so lucky. But after he spanked me a few times with his hand, he ended up pulling down my panties nonetheless.

Right after, of course, the spanking felt a whole lot worse. Although panties are thin, they seem to do a lot as far as the sting of each blow is concerned.

I’ve mentioned this before, but I don’t take a spanking gracefully. I cry, I try to struggle, I kick; he always has to grab my wrists to keep me from trying to cover myself and has to position one of his legs over mine so I don’t kick too much or try to wriggle onto my side.

Soon, though, the first portion of my spanking is over and he sends me back into the corner. He leaves the room to get a drink—he just wants me to think about what’s about to happen, why I’m in this position—in the corner, naked, with an already red bottom.

When he comes back into the room, he tells me to lie on the bed on my back.

This is not a good sign. I have the strongest feeling that he’s not going to have sex with me, since we never have sex during or right after a discipline spanking. So, laying on my back will only be unpleasant.

I knew what he was thinking, too. He planned to belt me while holding my legs up in the air, making sure that he won’t belt me too high on my butt. However—when your legs are up in the air, your skin on your butt tightens, and you feel like any cushion your chub might give you is gone—because it is. This position makes your ass as tight as any super model. There’s only muscle.

So I started freaking out, even before he started, and James, I’m sure, felt bad. I mean, I was hyperventilating. He gave me a few stripes with the belt, and then he stopped for a bit to comfort me and calm me down before he continued. He kissed my forehead and said something like “Sweetie, I know this stings a lot, and it is going to sting a lot more, but remember it is just a spanking. Everything is going to be ok, I just want to make sure this is the last time I have to spank you for this.” I calmed down a little, and he eventually continued, and there were about 20 stripes in all. And then I was back in the corner. By now, I was shivering, crying, and not in a good state. Mostly because I knew it wasn’t over yet. Just thinking about that paddle made me shake uncontrollably and start to sob.

The paddle was a little different this time. It’s thinner than it was earlier—probably even by a forth of an inch—and lighter. James sanded it down because it was so heavy.

I was in quite a state by the time he pulled me back over his knee. He smacked me once—and the sharp pain immediately brought a stream of tears to my eyes. I didn’t try to run away; I just turned and gripped my arms around James and begged. But he had already quite made up his mind about giving me at least three swats. And three swats I got—the effect of them stayed much longer than invited; past the next spanking that day and well into the night. James took me to dinner and the movies afterwards, but my bottom just tingled with a numbing pain all the while.

Needless to say; I’m getting back into the food journal. This ended up being such a debacle; I’d prefer never to repeat it. And I suggest no one ever do anything that brings “paddling” into your husband’s mind. If James hadn’t already spanked me about stuff like this three times already it wouldn’t have been quite as bad, and it wasn’t as bad as it will be next time, if there has to be a next time for this issue, or so James has threatened.

Such is a day in the life of a spanked wife.

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