Oh, Damn

I was hoping to come back to this lovely little spot on the world wide web in a few days or so. However, at present I am trapped on the sofa with back spasms and the only thing I can reach is my computer. So, I decided to blog about chocolate, and its completely horrible effect on my behind.

At one point I had talked about being a size 16 curvy lady. That was over a year ago. I am now a much larger size, and it is no longer something I feel comfortable with. I had some nasty health problems that resulted in some not so little weight gain. Now, I am borderline diabetic, and infertile, as a result of the weight gain and health problems.

Logically, I would try to control my diet and exercise. I should be fighting for all I am worth to conquer this weight demon and avoid insulin and needles. Now thats the logical approach.

It seems there are few things that are logical when it comes to women, hormones, and chocolate. Particularly milk chocolate.

I keep buying it, thinking I will put it aside as a treat to have later. And of course, when I do indulge, it will be moderation. At least, this is the plan.

What really happens is I rip open a piece of chocolate, and by the end of the day have consumed half a bag. (ok, the WHOLE bag.) Blood sugar shoots through the roof, energy levels sink to a new low, and all I can say is, "but I felt so great while I was eating it."

Last night my Dear Husband told me, again, this has to stop. I was feeling less than sweet and submissive last night, so my reply was "yeah, yeah, whatever. What are you going to do, spank me?!" In case you can't tell, the health problems have not affected my mouths ability to get me into trouble.

"Yes, actually, I am."

Can someone please tell me why I give him ideas? I found myself facing the wall, with my hands resting above my head, and my butt being pounded. Did the message sink in? We will find out when I go grocery shopping this week.

So apparently, I am a really lousy blogger....

Ahm. Hello. Why yes, I am aware it has been over a year since I posted something. Yes, I am dreadfully sorry about this. Funny, how did you know that my lack of active blogging correlates to my lack of progress in submission? Really, you thought it would be easier for me by now?

You get the idea. I am sitting here typing, and I should be in bed. Things are dramatically different than they were 12 months ago. For one thing, I found myself unexpectedly unemployed. I am now a stay at home wife. My goals in life have changed dramatically.

BDH (Beloved Dom Husband) is still as loving as ever, if not more so. Things have just, well changed.

There has not been a true discipline spanking in probably six months or more. Not that I haven't deserved one, but more that BDH has found other ways of making me uncomfortable. His solution was simple, he ignores me. I can't stand that. I am sure, if occasion should truly warrant it, he will push me on my stomach and redden my behind.

I am still defiant. Sometimes he tells me to do something, and I honestly know my facial expression just says "Go f*** yourself." Yet, I don't like it when he is unhappy with me, and I feel genuine regret. I just can't seem to get the rebellious strong willed part of me out. I think it might be something that hangs with me through my entire life. I am beginning to think that perhaps this is really nothing more than a lack of willpower, and maybe some emotional issues that have been running stealth for a couple of years.

This will, hopefully be the beginning of weekly blogging for me. I am now going to go join BDH in bed. I can hear him snoring 2 rooms away. :-)

So I'm a little freak

Lately, I have been really wanting to physically challenge BDH and be completely overcome. I want to be held down and spanked till my bottom looks redder than a cherry. I want to yell and fight back so he spanks me harder. I want to know who is boss. (Not to mention spanking majorly turns me on.)

The problem with all this is that I feel like a weirdo. I mean, what sort of modern, competent, woman wants to be overcome by a man? I feel like there must be something wrong with my brain. I have been struggling with this for awhile. I am mad at myself for what I desire. It is getting easier to accept this aspect of myself, but I still fervently wish it wasn't there. I don't want to be a little freak! Ack!

Last night I was able to say something to BDH for the first time. "I want to be spanked. Hard. I want it rough." He complied, and I felt great. I laid in his arms afterwards, completely satisfied. Added bonus, he likes it this way too. He loves me so much, he had waited to show me this crazy rough stuff till I asked for it. And that turns me on too. How wonderful is it to be with someone who patiently waits for you to be ready? Almost four years of marriage, and he is still letting me find my way, with gentle pushes in the right direction from him. I can say with full certainty, that man knows me better than I know myself. Now I find writing about last night and how he has patiently held me along this path is causing me to get turned on. Right now. Sitting here. I am turned on. Erg. What do I do about this?

Nice girls don't have sexual desires! Yes, it is the 21st century, yes, I was born sometime in the 1980s, but my Mother, lord love her, made sure I was as 19th century as I could get when it came to sex. Sexual repression, anyone?

I really need to go do some household chores this morning. My flowerbed in the front needs weeding. But sitting here, with my bowl of cereal and my laptop, all I can think about is jumping on BDH and seeing if he is up for round two.

No! I am not supposed to want sex. But I do want it. I am not supposed to tackle my Husband and eagerly wriggle till he throws me underneath him. Yet this is what I want to do.

I let my mind drift while I was sitting here battling between having sex and weeding the flowerbed. (Yes, the flowerbed is still a contender, but losing quickly.) A realization hit me. It is not sex that I desire as much as him. If a good looking, strong man walked through the door and offered to tumble me on this oh so very soft couch I am sitting on, I would say no. I don't want just anyone, I want HIM. I love HIM. He is IT. There is no one else. I am genuinely, completely, and totally in love with my Husband and want HIM to pull me underneath him and screw my brains out. Yeesh! Where did that come from? Now I am starting to sound like a hormone filled teenager!

I will compose myself. I will compose myself. I will go weed the flowerbed. I will go weed the flowerbed. I will go jump on ... NO NO NO. Flowerbed. Maintain some semblance of control.

Or, I could just embrace my inner freak. I could just run to his home office, naked, and sit on his lap. That would be much easier than continuing to fight myself.

Inner freak embraced. For now.

Change....

I realized things had changed for me when I did not want to make a decision and simply did not make it. I let BDH make it. That would have never happened six months ago.

So, I am a size 16 curvy lady. When BDH married me I was a size 12. He does not find me any less attractive because my assets have grown a little plumper. He seems to almost like the fact there is more of me to love. I am beginning to feel comfortable with myself at this size. I am wearing a D cup bra, and have a curvy tummy, waist, and hips. I am stunning in his eyes, and because of his praise and desire for me, I feel beautiful.

It does not matter what size a woman is. Big, little, tall, short, skinny, plump, BBW, or anything else. What matters is what is in her heart and how she feels about herself. For me, the one who holds my life in his hands has given me the confidence to feel like a Goddess. When I stand before him, I know he wants me. Sometimes he runs a hand along my back and the feel of my skin is pleasing to him. I am loved, treasured, and adored.

I am a woman. I have thighs. I have arms that are soft and plump. My breasts are full, and my behind is round. I am alright with what I look like and who I am.

Now, the purpose of talking about my pleasantly plump self. ABC and Fox networks did not want to run an ad for Lane Bryant which featured a plus size model. The cited it showed too much cleavage. However, the have an ad for Victoria's Secret that looks like something one would see at a Strip club. I guess breasts are okay, as long as the rib cage is visible.

tkc

p.s. to see the "too much cleavage" ad, use the following link.

http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474978195768

In the beginning....

In the beginning there was me with my plan. My plan was complete, and I tolerated no deviations from it. I was "on my way" up the corporate ladder, achieving my dreams one at a time, and did not need anyone to tell me how to live my life. My plan had a list with things to check off. One of the things that the plan listed was getting married. I envisioned a life of partnership with someone, where we would both support each other in achieving our goals, and function independently while working together to better our lives.

Then, I got married, and I hit a roadblock. Working together involves compromise, and my plan did not allow for compromise. So I became a domineering wife, who laid out the plan, and my poor husband found himself dragged along with it. Things did not go so well.

My Beloved Dom Hubby (BDH) is an exceptionally smart person. He tried for three years to put up with my bullshit and denied the part of himself that was meant to be the dominant head of our house. I guess he had enough, and through a course of events, I found myself entering into a D/s relationship. This is should be great for us as a couple, except for one thing, I am the lower case "s" in the relationship.

I had no idea how a D/s relationship worked, but I knew my marriage needed something desperately, so I made a promise to him I had avoided even in our wedding vows. After some researching and coaching from BDH, I promised to obey him, and asked him to accept my obedience. He did quite happily.

If being a good submissive wife means you can write out the definition of what one is, then I can't even spell submissive. I'm trying, and I succeed sometimes and fail others. BDH has done this before, and he knows what he is doing. He also loves me enough to put up with me when I try to wrap my mind around what obedience means exactly. He also reminds me what happens when I am not. Suffice to say, I find my fiercely independent behind now lovingly and fiercely spanked, as I am taught how to be a submissive wife. It is indeed an adventure with many misadventures for my Beloved Dom Hubby and myself.

tkc