Another mixed bag

Long time no see! ... And I am sorry for that. Over the last weeks so many things have been going on in the family and some of it left me too confused to do more than comment in other blogs. So, this is a report of some of what has been going on lately.

My Granny

The good news first. Granny is getting better, we think. Finally we could go and see her last week. And she is at home, too. :) We had to wear face masks, but who cares about that. She is getting better, though at the moment she looks weak and thin and older than before. :( But this will be better soon, I hope, and she had a good day and was happy, when we could see her, hug and just s e e her. You know, the best about being with granny was that she was so obviously happy to be with us and that she had a rather practical way of talking about chemo and all the things that are simply part of it. And then we could go over and talk about family, which is just like her. I cannot express this any better, because it is her way of coping and looking forward to better times. She does it like ‘enough about the illness, let’s talk about something important. How is Tilda doing?!’ If she had not mentioned Tilda (never fails to brighten me up :)   ), I would have bawled my eyes out immediately, because she is so open and heart-warming, she simply doesn’t want us to feel bad for her. Wow. Ha, but throughout the last week we have been there almost every day and Tilda could finally be there too. Not for long, we can only make short visits, but that’s ok for Granny. And better times are ahead, I think. Thank you for all the positive and healing energy and all the prayers for my granny. I love you for doing this for her and I know they help granny, thank you!!!! :)

Tilda

I am still waiting for Tilda’s first tooth. I thought it would be out, but no, she keeps us waiting, though it cannot be long I think. She has had some nights when she was rather restless and it was not the silly cold. We are done with that for now and could enjoy doing some long walks in a nearby natural reserve, could even have playdates, sort of. They were more like two little ones rolling on the floor dates, but it was quality time with a friend. 

Haha, Tilda has had her first spoons of solid food!  Well, we tried, but actually I had underestimated her quick hands. She grabbed the spoon most times and Tilda and I had more food on our clothes and around her face than ever reached her mouth. It is a major step for us, she is still breastfed and will be for months, but soon the natural contraception that I had because of full time nursing, will be over. :)

Yesterday and today (Saturday) we had our baby group and baby swimming too, it was just a lot of fun and we enjoyed it so much. Everything is back to normal, Tilda loves the water and she is still always surprised when she splashes around and some of the drops hit her face. First, surprised face, then smile. When I play along and am surprised by the drops, she can’t stop laughing, from deep within. Really funny. :)

Another go at coffee

Coffee time – so not. I tried again, last week’s Friday. The smell was awesome and I thought I could try. I used a little milk, which is unlike me, but well, ok. Yummy. My taste buds are definitely back in the game! My first sip, it was simply wonderful, really it was! I had expected the worst again, like last time, when the smell was great and the taste was awful. No, now it is better, for whatever reason.

So I had a little more. The result was devastating, though. I was under alarm as if I had had litres of coffee, not three or four little (!) sips. I had made sure to try the coffee right after nursing Tilda and thought I was on the safe side with that, because there were hours before she got milk again. Hmm, not sure. She had a rather restless evening, so maybe the caffeine had an effect on her, maybe it was something else. No idea. ... But eew! I was up most of the night, sleepless. So, I cannot be sure if it was the coffee. The worst was heartburn, just as bad as I remember from some days last year when Tilda pushed my stomach up. I connect all this with the coffee, because everything else I had was healthy and responsible from my side.

Tilda alone is another reason not to try coffee again until after weaning. So, adios coffee for another year. :) Actually I am not sad, because I tried and liked the taste, but my body simply cannot cope with coffee at the moment. I mean, the heartburn was awful, in addition to everything else. I can wait.

DD and fun

There have been two noteworthy spankings lately, one was for punishment, all too well deserved I want to add and I am glad that this was finally over because I have been really bratty then and hubby stopped me when I couldn’t stop myself. My bum hurt and afterwards, when we were good again, I felt it for the next three days and it made me smile every time that I noticed consciously. This spanking had brought a big lot of peace and harmony for sure.

A moment like this is so important for me, when the spanking is over, cornertime done, I snuggle into hubby’s arms and we are as close as can be, even without further activities, everything is just good and right. This is awesome, and apart from the love, I feel free from any kind of burden. I love it. 

The other spanking was different. It was not part of a scene, and it happened right after lunch (most of our spanking moments are in the evening), and somehow it has become another symbol of why spankings are just what I crave. Due to some family affairs that were not so awesome lately, I was all in all rather out of focus I think. We had a short trip planned to get me some new shoes. Usually this is like quality time, because hubby is good at telling me what I should wear (he decides anyway) and I enjoy shopping. Besides, I love shoes. :) 

So I should have been relaxed right from the start, because we had been baby swimming in the morning, too, another feel-good time that usually sort of guarantees that the day will be awesome. Nevertheless, this time it did not. I was tense right after lunch, no idea why. I could not give any reason for it, but had noticed that something was not the way it should be. Hubby had seen that too, took me to the bedroom, had me undress and put me across his knees. Simple as that. I got a spanking, not punishment, but a really wonderful one. This one was so much of the good kind that it left me speechless. I mean, I had other things to do then, e.g. enjoy the moment. He spanked, fondled, examined my wetness, spanked, inspected between my legs again, drove me crazy, spanked, lectured very nicely that I am in good hands (Yay! for his good hands!), I could relax, could let go, no worries, spanked, he’d protect me, spanked, drove me crazy again, examined, spanked, ‘Come for me now baby’ OOOOOOO <-big O!  :)

Wow, when we went shopping for new shoes afterwards I was the most relaxed obedient wife on earth, I could barely walk straight to the car and needed the whole ride in the car to come back to my senses but the silly grin never left my face this day I think. …  I found nice shoes too, perfect day. :)

 

Wishing you all a wonderful Sunday!

I've got a cunning plan

Last year's September I started my blog as some kind of diary where I would write about domestic discipline, bdsm, our lives, the good and the bad. This was the original idea and I had absolutely no idea that I'd ever write more about pregnancy than about dd. Besides, writing about dd was good and I did not want to wait until Mathilda turns 18, so, here I am. No spanking yet, but nevertheless, I am writing dd-related, at last.

Anticipation before Christmas

Somehow this Christmas is my magic date for returning to some of the original topics. Hubby and I would like to start some kind of spanking again around Christmas, and we'll just see if this works out.

There might be one or two things speaking against it, but nevertheless, I'd love to try it, to get some (oh heck, a lot!!) kind of our 'old normal' back (sort of). 

Well, and I don't have to ask hubby about starting spanking again, I have eyes to see how he measures my bum and now, that I can already take light slaps, I get some of those, the lovely and soft ones. 

Then again it is quite obvious for us that I am not ready for more than that yet, neither physically nor mentally. This must sound so strange, but the physical aspect is a challenge for me. I am feeling quite well, but I simply could not take any spanking now. Not even one of the soft, lovely ones. I am afraid that I'd just go to pieces. I am fine, don't get me wrong, but not yet able to cope with much more than the good vibes. Confusing. I could get what I crave, but if I did, it might be too much to cope with for the moment.

Since we are doing fine (feels like another kind of honeymoon period, but with rings under the eyes), our worries are only about Mathilda, when she's maybe crying more than usual ... or keeping me awake longer than I'd imagined. :D Nevertheless, at the moment, I am a little afraid of more demanding situations that will come sooner or later.

So, what's my plan? Sleep more, recollect my senses, be more able to cope with the new again. .... And ask for more ... spankings! (in the longer run)

Why that? I have learned a lot about us this year, most of it was only possible because we had to give dd a sort of major break. Sure, I had alternative discipline, like cornertime, no tv, short computer time  or early bedtime, and it served its purpose. But it was incomplete, compared to what we had before. DD without spanking, the physical experience of it, is so different. 

I don't say it is better or worse, but I felt this lack of being held responsible in a physical way, to the extreme. Hubby too, because there have been a few situations when he would have loved to put me over his knees.

The 'other me'

From my side of things I can only say that I have tried hard, very hard (I mean it!) to be good for hubby. This was because I did not want to fail him or use my pregnancy as an excuse for being stupid and irresponsible. On the contrary, I wanted the opposite. Well, there have been times where I simply could not think, remember or act responsibly. Did I mention forgetfulness? But hubby knew this was not because I am trouble, so he was really patient and comforting. 

This must have been hard for him, too, but I am happy that I had him at my side in these moments. During the last months I was so grateful for his leniency that I don't have the words to express it. He sometimes simply knew that it was the 'other me' who did not know what she did. Hmmm, tricky, sounds a bit too much like a split personality, doesn't it? :) For the record, I felt great while pregnant, apart from sleep issues.

Stress stresses me

Anyways, back to my learning process. One of the things I learned is that stress stresses me more than I knew. :) What I mean is, this happens when hubby is under a lot of stress. Maybe it was different in the past, but his business has been soaring over the last two years and with that, his level of stress has increased considerably. I thought it was only a lack of time that I'd feel, but no, the pressure he carried around with him spread to me on a regular base, and we did not know that it did. So, as a result I was pretty flustered on some occasions and had no idea why. And I had no outlet from that, so it frustrated me for long. 

Wait, this is still dd-related! And it is still about asking for more!

We had an outlet, but it took us these last ten months to see it for what it is. We always knew that maintenance spankings make me calm, relaxed, let me find balance and we would wonderfully reconnect with it. Wonderful. But we did not have this awareness that I am actually a stress-copy of hubby when he is overly busy. It really has not been clear to us. Before pregnancy, this was no serious problem, because I got spanked often enough and the stress that I had accumulated, simply disappeared. We could not do this while I was pregnant. So, this accumulated. Imagine a volcano that erupts once the pressure is high enough. Imagine an unreasonable, ranting and raving preggo now and you get the picture.

I couldn't write about this before, because I had no idea about this pattern. Hubby and I discovered that together a few weeks ago, because some of how I behaved then, the way I am out of balance, until I get a spanking, have happened before.

Hubby has a very high stress tolerance. He can cope pretty well and all it does in him is that he is more energetic and alert. He is not even hectic or anything like it when I'd already be panicky. This can be frustrating. When it happens I always feel like a complete dork! But somehow, in the undercurrents you feel that he is also strained, maybe it is also because he has less time, then, too.

My cunning plan :) ... thanks to Baldric from Blackadder

I am not too good at stress management, obviously. I need harmony and peace. We knew that before, but just how much of it, is a little surprising for me.

Hubby is good at stress management and enjoys a challenging job. (He likes a challenge in general, that's why he has me! :)  )

Then again, he also wants peace and harmony at home. No, let me rephrase that ... he needs it!

But sometimes he might bring stress home and it spreads to me. If you compare the way we deal with it, I should say it multiplies in me. And we know that spanking has done us a lot of good. That's where my cunning plan kicks in. Once I am able to, I'll receive the spankings that I need. In addition, hubby and I have discussed that I have to relearn asking for spankings when I am not my balanced self. The problem with that is that I am usually the last who notices, but I'll try. 

She asked for it and they lived happily ever after :)

It is Saturday afternoon here and I hope that you all will have a lovely and fantastic weekend!

TTWD with a baby?

 

Finally, something DD related again, after all this time! Feels like a DD interlude, because my next entry won’t be on DD. Anyway,back to TTWD. 

Hubby and I have never had problems with doing TTWD all over the house. I mean, usually we had our favourites, like bedroom, living room and kitchen, but we have also been in the garden and everywhere else. Well, lately, the SM part is less exotic, due to me being less flexible, and honestly, I do feel bulky. So, when hubby has to heave up the heavy goods (=me), the pulleys that he has in the bedroom  are quite useful. ;) Actually I haven’t been hanging around for a quite a while, because the more the bump grows, the more limited the SM action has become. Being on all fours over an extended period of time (…like 5 to 10 minutes :D feels like a feat for me lately) borders on sadism from hubby’s side and that I can still make the best out of it might reveal unknown masochistic tendencies in me. … And gravity sucks, too!

Anyways, whatever happens in the bedroom, can be quite noisy, unless I am gagged. But being gagged is not what hubby does to me for a longer period of time right now, either. Being bound,  being gagged, being beaten, these are all lovely things to do during a session, but they can be awkward or even dangerous while pregnant. Hey, that’s why I can’t wait for Christmas. I hope so much that we have all of this then again. … If we are up to the task, with our little one next door. 

Let’s just assume baby is asleep and we have the energy to do something really naughty like a scene. No problem, as long as baby is a baby. But, according to latest scientific research, babies grow and become older and then they can be so nosy. We do not want baby (or even better, baby and her siblings) to ask questions like “Why did mommy scream last night?”. Kids also have this need for justice, so they would protest if they thought their dad beat innocent mommy. ‘Yay kiddos, defend your mommies!’ They would not understand the expression of bliss in my face when I am reminded of such a great night, would they?

And we surely do not want to have baby stroll along with a paddle or a dildo in hands, asking what this might be good for, while we have visitors! Imagine that. How you would bridge this embarrassing silence? ‘Some more tea  or something stronger, my dear?’ 

I am almost week 34 by now, therefore delivery approaches quickly. Maybe it is understandable that  I would like to have these little things cleared up in time. This is probably exaggerated from my side, but when we return home from the clinic, it won’t be long till family and friends will swarm our place, and this will surely include our bedroom. 

After our return home from our holiday I have already tidied up everything. Well, I had done that before, too, but you never know, what it is good for. Just in case. Yeah, I have also re-packed my clinic bag again, about the 50^th time. Does that qualify for an OCD? I really have done that a lot, lately! 

 But so far there was no real need to be able stow away all canes, crops, cuffs, whips, bondage gear, clamps, and what have you, quickly. (Imagine your four year old running through the house with mommy's favourite leather hood, just because you forgot to put it away). I think some more lockable containers are in order. Where is the key to our bedroom door, btw? Oh but we won’t put the gags far away, because I think we absolutely have to use them on me, so that I am not that loud and wake up baby. :-D 

Safety-advice:

We enjoy sensory deprivation play, therefore, this happens to me, often. But everything BDSM-related should always be safe, that’s what safewords are good for. … Unless you are gagged and blindfolded. They are pretty much useless then. That's why hubby insists on some signal he cannot miss during a scene. So, last night, while I was bound, blindfolded and gagged, I had to hold a little metal box with coins in my hand. If I had shaken it, this would have meant ‘yellow’, close to what I can endure, but if I had let it fall, it would have created a lot of noise and this signal means ‘red’, stop, emergency of some kind.  Nothing happened. The only emergency was baby pushing on the bladder, as usual. Safety is important and this knowledge, that everything will be ok, makes a scene far better, too. I can let myself fall into these moments far better, knowing that hubby wants to see me safe, always. That's why I recommend to be safe, sane and consensual!

And I hope you all have a great start into your week!

Problems, problems, problems - love is where you find it :)

I think hubby's life is not always easy, because he has me. :) Ok. I could leave this statement as it is and stop the entry, but there is more to it. Only a short while ago, I have written that respect is an issue here at times. And since there have been moments when I showed a certain lack of that and I know that this vexes hubby, I'll elaborate on this and some more. This is actually DD-related again, for a change and the event it refers to has been about a year ago (May? 2013). A happy time, when spankings existed for me, though my bottom was not fond of what happened then. Ah, I am reminiscing about the good old times. :)

So, I have been an exceptionally good girl all my life ... Just kidding! Throughout our time together, hubby and I have worked on issues that caused problems. I am talking about all the little things that happen to everybody, such as being thoughtless, being moody, breaking rules, trying to be right although you are not, bumping into lamp posts and such things. These little conflicts and problems happen, even though we are willing to work on a good relationship and succeed.

Well, no, it is not only the little things. This is also about the bigger problems that could occur. Those silly stunts that could happen as a result of being thoughtless, or because of PMS or whatever other reason. A major issue is for example if you left the impression that you wanted to provoke your loved partner, or if you give him the impression that he doesn't matter as much as he should. The last one really hurts, and I never did that intentionally during our marriage, but hubby has felt that way once, very very long ago, because I was thoughtless and my behaviour could be understood the wrong way; I simply gave the wrong signal, but definitely unintentionally. Well, there are more, and since I don't really believe that the issues hubby and I deal with are much different from what others go through, I sort of believe that most of you know what kinds of problems could occur. I also believe that there are some special issues that maybe you have to deal with more often than we have and, of course we have some issues that are bigger for us than for you.

But, although the focus of what I wrote up to here, has been on the problems, this does not mean that our relationship doesn't work, or has ever been jeopardised. No, far from it. We have problems to deal with, like everybody else, and we discuss and work on our problems, first of all by means of communicating. This is most important for us. The second most important way of working on our problems is very much based on DD. We have set boundaries and especially I should try not to overstep those, because usually it is me who is boundary-challenged. <--Sounds nicer than 'I break the rules'. And over time, these transgressions have become less and less. 

I guess I have learned something from hubby and the boundaries are good ones. There is nothing restricting in such things, as the restrictions that we have are only there to keep us and others safe, to create room for harmony and being together without any negative thoughts, without resentment. If a bedtime that hubby imposes on me results in me being relaxed, calm and more joyful, then the restriction is a very positive one. If our communication results in showing that he and I want to be treated nicely, then this is absolutely positive. If speeding penalties result in me getting the bottom heated and I drive slower (only) after being disciplined, then this is very positive. And it works for us! 

Don't get me wrong, though, ever since I have learned about baby growing in me, I have become really careful with the car. DD has taught me a lot before, but having baby on board makes a real difference!

I guess I feel inclined to emphasize how much good DD did for us, because from my experience, loving a partner is not always enough to make a relationship work well. There is a lot of work involved to make it a really good one, where both partners feel cherished and loved, problems that exist are solved or at least dealt with, so that they are not overwhelming. Maybe for other couples this is completely different, and I just don't find the right words, but apart from love, I think a certain kind of commitment, the willingness to give something positive into the relationship, is very important, too. 

Now, I have given examples of what problems there are, or could be, and also written that DD works. But nevertheless, sometimes things just go wrong. They did completely go wrong this good year ago. Yes, it was the time of the month again, and I had no real idea that I was pms-ing, because otherwise I felt pretty relaxed, I thought. From what I have read in other blogs, the pattern is so similar to what others experience: pms is there and you don't notice, until it is too late, because things have been said or done which could be detrimental to an unstable relationship. The moment when you realize that pms struck again often enough comes far too late. Pms is a perfidious bitch! (Sorry) I know, it is no excuse, but since I am currently more on hormones than ever before, I sort of feel inclined to say that hormones have an influence. Duh!

So, there was this slow build up that neither hubby nor I had noticed. It was about the little things, as so often. I wanted contact to hubby on the one hand, but then again, I had somehow distanced. I don't know if it makes sense, it is pretty contradictory, I know. Then there have been situations where I maybe behaved less attentive towards hubby than usual. Depending on his own situation, he is faster or slower in seeing what's going on with us, but usually he is the good one at that and often enough it is him who stops this process in time, with a little reminder via the bottom into the brain, which helps me to come to my senses again. But what happens when hubby is busy and cannot help? Then I spiral downwards into the unpleasant regions of weakened connections between him and I. 

So, basically I had three days where I extended my bedtime rule here and there, maybe did not do all the chores as good as I should have, forgot about a few things which were important, I did not show how much I love and cherish hubby and talked back for no reason. And then hubby took his time with me. He was really busy, but he skipped some appointments to settle matters at home, because I had gone besides myself. As soon as he held me accountable for my behaviour, it was like a wake-up call. He stated that my behaviour had been completely inacceptable and I could do nothing but admit that he was right. In a way it was a cold shower when you want a warm and cozy place, but then again, it worked and brought me back to the place where I really want to be. I had no excuse, though hubby told me that I was obviously pms-ing. If anybody else had said that to me, I'd probably have called him a chauvinist or something like that, but actually hubby was right and once it was said it did not take long to see where the trouble came from and that the pattern was the one it often takes with me. Maybe I am a complete moron, but I do not always  rarely  see what's going on with me and obviously I need a man to tell me about pms. 

Well, hubby had admittedly given fair warning before and I had not listened. Therefore he had a more extensive form of punishment in mind. The first punishment is nothing that hubby does. It is about the sudden awareness of what you have done. I mean, breaking a rule is something that happens now and then. But what I have dramatic problems with is when I realize that I have disappointed hubby, or even worse, when I realize that he must have felt less cherished and loved than he deserves. This is most devastating for me and the physical punishment that I receive after that is more than welcome to me, because otherwise I'd go for a long time full of self-reproach. To have done such a thing to the one you love most brings me down completely. And if I recognized that earlier, I'd stop, but I do not see any of that until it is far too late. Bummer. Even one year later this creates a whole bunch of mixed emotions in me. 

Enough singing the blues! I had undressed and got the hairbrush and arnica. But hubby had brought two other implements which did not bode well for my bottom. He had brought a round wooden spoon for the very stingy biting part. And in addition to that he had brought the dark and heavy paddle. I was close to asking him for the nasty cane instead of the paddle, but I guess that would only have come as an additional implement, not as a replacement for the paddle.  So, I went over hubby's knees and he lectured me and I got a rather extended session with the hairbrush. My bottom felt very warm and it was no fun session with it, but as I was to learn soon, this was the relaxing part of punishment. What followed was a long session with the wooden spoon. I had once put one of them into the dishwasher, to get rid of it, because they are plain wood and usually the spoon has cracks from the heat, afterwards, but to no avail, because they are really cheap and hubby had two new ones the very next day. I knew why I had wanted to get rid of it. This really sets my bum on fire. This implement stings so much that I have difficulty remaining over hubby's lap. The message behind this is: it does a great job. As does the paddle. I had been bawling from pretty early on, though the wooden spoon added a lot to bawl about. I thought that the paddle would be too much, but then again I also know that hubby looks very closely at how much I can take. So, actually the paddling was the shortest of the whole punishment, and for me, the wooden spoon felt worse than the paddle. 

Afterwards hubby put arnica on my bottom and I was still flustered, but so much more relaxed than before. I thanked hubby and I was grateful for the discipline I got. It was a big relief for me and I felt that I had deserved every single stroke of it. We hugged and cuddled right there, me naked and still sobbing and hubby said something, not to soothe me (no reason, I was fine), but because he meant it:

"You have made every mistake possible by now, ... and you are wonderful."

And he was proud of me, too! I loved that moment and I loved what he had said (still do; that's why I am bragging shamelessly with it, now). I had a really dark red bum and had a reminder for days, every time I sat or when hubby touched my bum, but I felt so good! After hubby had said that, aftercare only became an additional treat.

I don't want to provoke any punishment  and really do want to be good. But I'd definitely love a good girl spanking, I can't wait for Christmas 2014.:)

Respect is a major rule

Finally, after all sorts of things that have appeared here in my blog, I found the energy to write a little about our rules. They are just a few thoughts about them and most of it might be pretty obvious, too, but I have not written much about our rules here so far, therefore I thought that it is time to change that after what feels like tons of entries about pregnancy, feel-good ideas and some from the 'different' kind of writing. Even Sue and Martin, the two who had a first appearance in Belfast, could turn up again soon,  in a second part of the story. Well, back to topic.

As some of you know, the spanking part is currently not there for us and this is going to change only in winter, maybe Christmas ....oh, hopefully, I want that back so much! Since this part has been more important than I was aware of until recently, the question arose, how to deal with this. 

The good news is, I did not go into a mad frenzy and hubby did not go to the pub to drown his frustration. Somehow we have only changed a part of the discipline into the non-physical direction, and it works so far. It feels more arduous and leaves me sometimes slightly frustrated, but I think it works in general. Hey, and I am a good girl!

 Back to the four D's which in a way can cover all you need to look out for: Disobedience, Dangerous behaviour, Dishonesty and finally ... Disrespect. Here we are. 

I'll try to explain what kind of importance respect has for us. I don't know if there is a difference in how men and women see respect in a relationship, but I know that hubby and I have different opinions about its importance, though we agree that we want to show respect to each other. See below.

Respect

Hubby and I show a certain kind of respect to each other. And since me talking back could really hurt, this is an important rule for us. I don't mean to be bad, but I claim to be human and then these things just happen and hubby says I am very human. Thanks for that, Sir. But seriously, just having this awareness that both of us want and deserve respect, helps us. We want to show to each other our esteem, how much we cherish each other. 

It’s also about the small things. For example I am fabulous at letting my eyes roll verbally. The tone I use can show all shades of disrespect that you can imagine. Just like rolling eyes can. I am not supposed to do that and I manage to fulfil that one. … Very often! But I seriously believe that hubby deserves respect and he also treats me nicely and does a lot more, he even disciplines me when it’s necessary. I mean, he does, what it takes, because he also believes it is right. Nevertheless, I think that it is not easy in every situation to be up to the task. Hubby deserves even more respect from my side when I consider that. Well, we both believe that our partner deserves to be treated with respect. It is a sign that shows how much our partner is cherished. And I think everybody needs to feel that, not only hubby and I. 

Some ways of not respecting hubby are simply like bad habits. I have learned to roll my eyes and nobody actively stopped me doing that, before hubby-times. From nowaday's point of view, I think this was rude behaviour. I know that there are many people out there who say, who cares, it's part of your personality or whatever. No, it is not part of my personality. It's behaviour or habit and that can be retrained/modified. 
I want to please my husband and enjoy doing things for him. Therefore, I have learned not to roll my eyes as a non-verbal kind of nagging. I don't do it, because I know he doesn't like it and I don't like it much either, because it shows the opposite of what I want to show to my husband. Imagine how you feel if someone shows disrespect to you. I think this hurts a lot if done by someone you love.

This is only one example. If it is related to body language, negative signals are sometimes too quick to give them a name,  although they have happened. So, you could tell your partner non-verbally, that you don't respect him. Who could want that?!

Instead, being in a loving relationship should be about the opposite. Show your partner that you appreciate what he does. Let him feel cherished and loved. Find ways to make him feel better. That's what it should be about. And now the turn back to DD: I believe that the potential chance to discuss these things, to give them a name and to find ways of stopping what's going wrong and changing it into a better direction, is greater in a DD relationship. Once again, this is only based on my opinion. I did not start a survey and only see what hubby and I discuss, again and again if we feel like it. I compare that to my past unsuccessful vanilla relationships. There have been moments when respect was a topic. But somehow, the incentive to change anything actively was not big enough (euphemism: =there was no incentive; I was free to misbehave). 

There is one thing about respect that I have learned from hubby and he has stated it in almost identical words more than once: He would rather go without love than without respect. Now, that was, no it still is a shocker for me. He has tried to explain that more than once, but I think I am only able to grasp his idea behind it, though not really able to understand this train of thought. For me, it is more the other way round. I'd rather live loved but without being respected than without love. Maybe it is just him and me, because opposites attract? I don't know, but once this had sunk in, it was a real eye-opener for me, because it showed me that respect is so important for hubby. It is a serious issue for him, and first of all I am very grateful that he could give it a name. I think not all husbands have this awareness. Ever since he has made it clear that this is important for him, its importance has also grown for me. Lol, I am still a member of the 'love-first' faction, though. Nevertheless, it is part of learning from hubby to at least understand that respect is important and therefore, I am so much more willing to show hubby this respect.

I like the traditional roles for men and women. I am not out to convince anybody that this is right or good for them, but it is good and right for us. We believe in equal rights for both sexes here, but we don't believe that men and women are equal. Obviously we are very different and we love this because in a way with our differences we complement each other. It works for us. Hey, I am still talking about respect, because for us, it is important to allow the other one to express this difference, and also to appreciate it. 

From my (female) friends some show rather masculine traits at times. I know that I could do that in some moments too, but I hate it and feel bad with it. I don't like to behave that way. Hubby doesn't expect me to do that (and he has a strong dislike of such behaviour in women). His way of being with me is different. He allows me to show and live according to my nature. I don't get any derogative comments or eye-rolling because I am who I am. Instead, I am loved and cherished for it. Now, for me, this is a kind of showing respect that I do not expect to be understood by all.

And although I do connect these benefits to having DD, I know that  others will have the opposite opinion. That's fine too, of course. 

We are not into tattoos, but I like these two.

Respect fun-section

There were these three guys talking. Two of them are talking about the amount of control they have over their wives, while the third guy remains quiet. After a while one of the first two turns to the third and says, "Well, what about you, what sort of control do you have over your wife?"

The third fellow puffs out his chest and says, "Well, I'll tell you. Just the other night my wife came to me crawling on her hands and knees."

The first two guys were amazed! Their eyes are wide and they have a newfound respect for this guy. "Wow! What happened then?" they asked.

The third fellow sighed and uttered, "She said, 'Get out from under that bed and fight like a man!'"

You didn't go there, wearing these colours, did you?

When Sue had married Martin, she knew that he'd travel a lot, because he was still doing military service. His last tour was meant to end that summer. He had been abroad for long and they only met when he returned for his holidays. He'd even build his future during these short times. But soon they would spend the rest of their lives together. She wanted to collect him on his way back home. They would meet in Belfast and get away from there. She had friends in Belfast. This would be the third year in a row that she would see them. They were Catholics, but that didn't matter to her. She was not interested in these details.

She was not Catholic, and in Belfast that could be good or bad, depending on which side of the pavement you chose to walk on. But she didn't know about that and wouldn't have cared, if she had. Maybe ignorance was her second name, maybe it was trust in the good will of people. All that she had to know was that she could feel safe, because she was only a tourist in this city. She'd be fine.

Sue remembered some of the stories Martin had told her, where people got hurt, soldiers, civilians from both sides and the people he called 'the others'. He had told her that times have become better in Ulster and there were less people killed every year. She had remembered that each time she had visited, there were some reports about bombs and violence. She had never had problems in Belfast, but then again, she was not English. Even though this peace had already lasted six years, she knew that being English was still like a crime in some quarters of the city. The people from Belfast listened to what someone said, no, they listened to how you'd say things, they listened for the sound of what you'd say. They'd hear whether you were Lancashire or Yorkshire, Dublin, Derry or Kent. Then they decided what you were, friend or foe. English or not. For the Union or against it. These questions  still mattered in some quarters of the city. Sue knew that, because Martin had given her instructions where never to go. 'Don't tell anybody that you know a soldier. Never ever tell your Belfast friends about my job.' She had promised and stuck to that. The only two who knew were her two friends, whom she trusted. I think Sue trusted everybody, but Martin had told her never to reveal anything concerning him. It might kill her and him. 

The evening before she would meet Martin in an unconspicuous pub near Queen's University, she had been out with her two friends. They had this queer look when she came to the nice little pub in one of the less wealthy streets of town. Maybe this was one of the streets where she should not be, but nevertheless Sue had enjoyed the stroll through the streets,  as she went to the pub. She enjoyed to see kids play, she watched those murals and wanted to memorize all she could, because she already knew that she would not be back to Belfast for a long time. The thought saddened her, because she would not see her friends again, maybe for years.

It was warm, it was pleasant, but everybody looked at her, as if she was an alien. Well, she was, she didn't live here. Some brawny men had looked at her with contempt. Did she hear rude comments? But they did not stop her, though their eyes followed her as she went along the little working class houses. She thought they were strange, but didn't care, when she finally had reached the little pub where she'd meet her friends. As she entered, it became noticeably quieter. As if a  gush of cold air had entered with her. Someone held a drunk man at the bar who was waving a bottle into her direction, as if he wanted to fight her, out of all people. Many eyes followed her, when she came in and went to meet her friends. Yes, and they had this queer look. "You didn't come here dressed like that!" Sue was surprised. "What do you mean? What's wrong?" She had no idea. The answer came with a very low voice "Sue, you look like a walking Union Jack. You are dressed in Unionist colours from head to toe. Are you mad!? In this street that could mean trouble. You are lucky to be still in one piece!" Sue didn't know what her friend meant. She liked blue and white and the red was not too much, it was only a little bit. "Give me your jacket. You can't wear it here. It's dangerous." She gave her friend the jacket and found an overdimensional crocheted cap in her hand. "Wear this one. They are the right colours. Nobody will ask questions if you wear this." Sue made a face as if she'd had been bitten. "But the colours don't match with my dress." She put the cap on. The noise rose again in the pub. When she went home later, she had the cap on. She still felt the eyes, or at least she imagined that they were there. Some men stood at the street corners, eyeing her conspicuously. 

The next morning she woke up and was over-excited. 'Martin, I can't wait to see you. We will be on our way home by tomorrow morning', she thought. Sue dressed, and this time she'd make sure her colours matched. She knew where she could spend the afternoon, before she would meet Martin in the evening. She went through the streets, and again she felt eyes on her. But why? She was not even close to the quarters where they had eyed her so suspiciously yesterday. She'd worn the cap she had got almost all day long. It had been warm for her, but she kept it on, because she didn't want to end up in trouble. And still, the people looked at her in a rather hostile way. Strange, this was the first time ever she had felt that here. Somewhere behind she heard a bottle of glass crash on the pavement. 'Silly kids' she thought and went on happily.

In the evening she went to meet Martin in the pub, finally. Before she went there, she'd made sure her colours would match nicely. As she came closer to the club, she could see some men with beer glasses in their hands, rise. All eyes were on her, not really as friendly as most people looked at her usually. The men all had short hair. 'Military', she thought. She was in the right place. Those men were dressed like civilians, but she knew what they were. Some wore T-shirts that barely hid their tattoos. It looked as if they wouldn't let her enter the pub. "Ey, what do you want here, get lost!" She was pushed away from the entrance. "Let me in, my husband is in there!" The huge man made big eyes. Obviously, he did not believe a word of what she had said. Compared to his size, she looked like a child. He eyed her from head to toe and grabbed her handbag. "Let me see if you have a package in there." Sue let it happen. She did not even protest. If she wanted to get in there, she'd better let him do that. This guy was not alone and some others looked at her with contempt. She had no idea why this could be. They were Martin's colleagues, weren't they? They should be on friendly terms with her. Sue frowned when the brute had finished searching her bag, but had found nothing. 'What had he expected? A bomb? Idiot'. Finally they let her in.

Martin sat inside, in the back. When he saw Sue, he choked on his beer. She grinned and went to his little corner. Martin was not amused as he stood up and let her sit down. "Sue, what are you doing?!" Was that a  question? No greeting? She was not sure what he meant. "I went shopping along Shankill Road. But the people were queer today, very unfriendly. Just like here." She showed to the door. "They wouldn't let me in and searched my bag." Martin smirked lightly. "You bet they did. You say Shankill Road? But you don't tell me that you went there in these clothes, do you?" She looked down her white blouse. "No, I changed for the evening, but the colours were the same." Martin almost choked again as he shook his head. "You didn't go along Shankill Road wearing t h e s e colours, did you?" Sue frowned. She didn't understand anything. "Sure I did. My friends told me that I should wear this cap to avoid problems with the local people." "Sue,  these are republican colours. You are wearing green, white and orange while you walk along a Unionist road and here, in a Unionist pub. This is outright dangerous. You are lucky that you are still in one piece. I can't believe that you provoked everyone for hours and you can still walk. Your guardian angel has worked overtime today." Sue was completely puzzled. "Give me this cap and take my jacket.  Let's get out of here, before anybody is too drunk to stop themselves from teaching you a lesson. That's my part, in my hotel room." Sue did as told. She had no idea. As Martin said his goodbyes to his colleagues, she waited, embarrassed as they looked at her, some with disgust in their eyes. Martin alleviated the hostility that the men had developed against Sue by spending them all a round of beer. Then the two of them went to the hotel. 

This was not what she had anticipated. She felt embarrassed, because she had disappointed Martin so much. It was dangerous? She didn't get it. Darn politics. Sue felt that Martin was angry with her, seriously. As he closed the door of their room behind him, her shoulders slumped forward, because she felt under pressure. Martin came close and turned her to face him. "Sue, I love you. If anything had happened today, I would never have forgiven myself. I am glad and happy that you are here in one piece, alive." She thought that he had taken her rather dangerous mistake pretty well. She  had hoped too early, though. "But for what you did today, I am going to spank you soundly. Your life was in real danger. You did  not see that, but that was only because you have been completely thoughtless. It could have killed you. I cannot stand this thought. Undress. Now!" He had taken her by surprise with that. She made big eyes as she looked at Martin, but he was serious. She had been punished before and she dreaded what was going to happen. Martin could spank really hard, if he felt he had to. And one look in his face told Sue that this was one of those times. He'd teach her to listen closely. Darn politics. Darn thoughtlessness. Slowly Sue undressed.

As she stood there in his hotel room, naked, she watched him look at her for a long moment. He sat on the bed, while she stood there. She felt her vulnerability more consciously than she had for a long time. Her head bent slightly forward, unvoluntarily. "Martin, I am really sorry. I didn't know that I had made a mistake." Martin breathed in audibly. "God, Sue, you are so beautiful, you know what I'd like to do with you now. But this is not a little mistake. You blundered completely. Even your two Catholic friends could be in real trouble because they have been seen with you. This is very serious and you'll listen better in the future. Believe me. Come here, hands on the bed and stand still."

Sue did as told. she stood there, bent forward and listened what sound would follow. Martin couldn't possibly have brought implements here? Into the hotel? He was out of his barracks the first night. She heard the familiar sound of his belt. Ah, so this is what it would be. Secretly she had hoped that she'd only receive a spanking by hand.  He'd do that with her over his lap. It was intimate and even during punishment, she felt better over his lap. Standing, bent down, was somehow more distanced for her. When that happened, Martin was seriously angry. But she had seen that he had also been afraid. Not for himself, no, for her. Sue bent down over the bed and felt her first tear fall. She had not been punished yet, but she was angry with herself and sad, because she had endangered her friends and disappointed Martin. He could have left her with that thought. It was punishment enough. Hiss, the belt struck for the first time. Sue could barely hide a smile,  a very distorted one, though. She needed this now. It was her ticket out of guilt and frustration. This had become crystal clear with the first pain she received. She noticed Martin saying something to her "...listen carefully next time." Hiss, the belt struck again. Sue felt her face redden, she felt as if she had no air left 'Boy, this is really rough' she thought and tried to focus on Martin's words "People have been killed here for less", swat, swat, swat. Sue let her head fall down, because she felt so miserable by now. But still, the burning pain was something she embraced in this moment. She cried, she let her frustration go. Swat, swat, swat. Slowly she found peace. Swat, swat, swat. She did not move, her sense of time was lost. Her mind was focused on the pain and then it had ended. Why did it stop? Were her tears empty? She didn't move, because Martin had not said so. She blinked her eyes open, saw where her tears had drenched the blanket. As she drifted back into reality, she noticed far more how much her bottom burned. She felt so raw that she knew she would not sit properly for days. If anything, she'd have a good reminder to listen closely to what Martin had to say. "Stand up, Sue." Sue did as told and turned around to face Martin. 'His voice is still stern.' She was not sure whether she should look him in the eyes or only be embarrassed. No, she had received her punishment. So, this was over. She looked up. New tears welled up in her immediately. 'His eyes looked worried. ' Sue tried to speak, but could only mumble her "thank you", as her tears drowned everything else. Martin pulled her closer and kept her in his arms. She snuggled as deep as possible into his embrace and lost track of time again. The next time she moved, it was already dark. They must have stood there for ages. Sue felt exhausted. She felt the heat in her bottom, his embrace and a gentle, welcome cool breeze. In the dark, she looked up at him and gave him a faint smile. Martin took her, put her into the bed and she fell asleep before he had covered her under the blanket.

Instead of going to bed, he switched on the tv-news. "...road two people died in a bomb attack this evening ..." Martin switched the tv off again, looked at Sue for a very long moment and put his black bagpack next to his side of the bed. "Tomorrow we are out of here", he said quietly. Still dressed, he lay down next to Sue.

Some of you know what's going on with me, when I write such things; this here definitely is a distraction from different things, and writing this way is a first-timer.

I am not good at politics, though I think I got the basic idea of political factions in Ulster somehow right. For me it is complicated stuff. Nevertheless, I apologize if I offended some by appearing partial. I wanted a certain point of view only as part of the plot, not to belittle or demean any political opinion at all.