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Alright—so. James and I won a free cruise to go on this Spring, and it's my goal to wear nothing but bikinis and miniskirts the whole time. Although I haven't been gaining any weight, my weight's certainly not going down either, and like hell I'm going to wear anything sexy until I'm at my goal weight: 130.

I've been at 130 before and I think I looked very good there, though it's possible that I may want to lose more when I get there. But still, that leaves me with about 20 pounds to lose.

Tonight, though filled with water, I weighed 151.1 pounds (in the morning I tend to weigh up to 5 pounds less).

Talking about the spanking diet with James was a challenge, because he knows my weight can fluxuate up to 8 lbs in a normal day—I don't know why this is. Hormones? Water? The Devil? But whatever it is, it makes the "if you don't lose weight at this time next week" rule very hard to enforce, because I could eat nothing and still gain 4 lbs by next week at this time. That's just the way I am.

James and I have rattled around with the "Spanking Diet" idea for a long time. But it's hard to enforce—things come up and I can't exercise, or I forget to keep a food journal.

So, although James doesn't need to lose weight at all, James still expects me to work out 5 times a week (if I'm feeling well) and to keep a FOOD JOURNAL. Which I've kept before, but they're hard to keep track of. He'll be keeping a food journal, too, just to make sure it is a possible feat and he's not expecting something superhuman of me.

I should add that James hasn't said anything about my weight at all. It's just as good as when we first met—I'd gained weight for awhile, but then I lost it back to my original "meeting James" weight, which is where I am now.

Blah, blah, blah! Let's bring this rambling escapade back to spanking. How can spanking help with a diet?

Well, that's just what we're looking into. Lots of people have lost weight on the spanking diet—just peek into the American Spanking Society and see—they have been rattling away at a Spanking Diet since I found their blog, and it looks like they're doing great.

The idea in place is simple: if I don't achieve my weight-loss goals, I get spanked. Pure and simple. A lot of people's weight-loss goals are different; mine's merely exercise and a journal. Others are sometimes rules like 'losing so much weight every week', but I can't do that, as stated.

But to make this work, every time I come close to not obtaining those goals I'll be realizing that my failures will result in a pink bottom, which is definitely a good motivator.

Where can it go wrong? Not with me, really—life will be very tough for me if I don't follow my goals IF James follows through. SO the responsibility lies on James to enforce these rules, which is tougher than it sounds. James likes to spoil me, and he has to be really stern this time.

If it works, though—I will be one happy camper. Let's just hope my butt doesn't get too bruised on the way there!

Curses!
I've told ya'll before—If I don't get a spanking for awhile, that doesn't mean that when I DO get spanked, I won't go through a time where I get spanked CONSTANTLY. I don't quite understand this anomaly; all I can do is verify its existence.

The funny thing is when I find myself in the corner with my pants down and an incredibly sore bottom, I'm always surprised that I'm there. Not because I think I don't deserve it… I just thought that since it had been 24 hours before doing something wrong, I was simply in the clear. Sort of like the thought that, "If a police car doesn't chase you after a minute, he won't chase you." Fallacy.

I guess the reason why he didn't do it before is that we both weren't feeling well on movie night. But, the next day we, unfortunately were just fine.

So, for all you detail hounds, it wasn't as bad as the one earlier this week. It was just over the knee, with his hand. In fact, a lot of it was over my panties. I think that was a reward for not arguing much. When I was doing what I was doing to get a spanking, I knew I had done something wrong, and I regretted it. I was thinking the spanking would, in fact, relieve me of some the guilt—and it did.

Alright. My interested is peaked. What did you do this time, Korey?

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Some of you assume I'm worse than I am—that I get spankings every day and then do the spanking celebration dance because I like them SO much. But that's just not so. I rarely get spanked as discipline. I get a slap on the ass about 50 times a day, and every time we have sex, a fun little spanking will somehow scurry into our picture, but discipline spankings are not fun affairs, and are certainly not frequent.

Just the other day we realized that I hadn't gotten a discipline spanking since we were in Santa Fe. That was in the beginning of September, folks. I mean, I'd gotten a couple of stern smacks, but not an over-the-knee sort of session that I most un-enjoy.

Of course we were both thinking the same thing at that time—that I'm "due". Not officially, or anything, only we realized I can't go too long without messing something up pretty royally where I don't really have an excuse.



Did this happen on your anniversary? Woof!

No! Our anniversary was on Sunday, and it was wonderful. We can be very romantic when we try. We cooed at each other while we filled ourselves with fondue for about 3 hours. It really was lovely.

My spanking happened last night—Monday. I was in a horrible mood all day, so if you were to go back in time and informed me that I was about to get spanked, I would have no trouble believing you. Normally when I'm depressed, I walk right into one. When I'm depressed I hate myself, I hate everyone else, I hate my life, I hate who I am and what I can do and why anyone would ever put up with me. I was having a day LIKE THAT. And so, normally all the negativity makes me say something that causes me to upend over James' knee.

Not because James would EVER discipline me for being depressed—he knows that's probably not the best way of fixing me. If I get a spanking when depressed, it's because he wasn't understanding that I was in a sad mood, and only interprets my crazy actions as... well, craziness or meanness not something I'm doing because I'm sad—James is actually really good about being nice to me when I'm feeling fragile.


Despite the history, THAT's not even why I got a spanking yesterday. It was because we looked a long time for a lighter and couldn't find one. Isn't that funny? Of course, if we can't find something, it's my fault.

You can't find something, and therefore it's YOUR fault? James is pretty strict…

No, no. James just realizes that I like to hide objects out of view in the house. It's ALWAYS me. Once in a while, I would LOVE James to be the "misplacer" just to make life interesting. But it never is. It's always me. I hide mail, magazines, newspapers, small objects, medication, toothbrushes, or anything at all that is just "left out". I normally feel rushed when I'm doing this, and so I don't break my back trying to figure out where all this stuff goes.


Which is fine—we have a clean house. BUT we can't find anything. We spend HOURS looking for the crap I've misplaced constantly. I've placed our cat's eye drops in my birth-control bag, once. I mean—it's bad.

But, REALLY, James wouldn't want to spank me for something he's not positive is my fault, though, so he waits until he found, while looking for the lighter, his missing sunglasses in my sock drawer. How they got there? I don't know.

So, James called me into the bedroom, and told me to take off my jeans. He had been very smooth with me all night; so much so, I didn't really take any of this seriously. So I pulled off my pants, thinking he was just going to give me a few slaps, fondle my ass a bit, then let me up.

I was mistaken.

I *realized* I was mistaken when James slid my belt out of my pants. He did this probably because, unless James is going to a business conference, James does not wear them. He also probably did this because this is not my first punishment for this offense.

My composure went very quickly from giggly and aroused to whiney and concerned.

It started out with a vicious hand spanking—one where I thought he was definitely favoring my left cheek. It went on forever. He was talking—he always talks, and he wanted me to respond. It was something about how I need to remember where I put things and put things where they're supposed to go, and if they don't have a place to make one and keep it consistent. And stuff.


And then he grabbed my belt and immediately started spanking with it without much ado, and then he stopped. "You have GOT to start staying more still," he said. "This would already be done if you didn't fight so much."

He says this like I can help it.

"I'm giving you twenty more with the belt."

With number two he got my hand. I don't know why he feels he much announce it—it just makes things worse. I know when I give blood, the nurse never says, "Alright. I'm about to put in the needle. Watch." No. They just do it. They just stab you and get it done. Maybe if he did that, my hands wouldn't be so quick to go back there and get themselves injured.

And then it was all over. I wasn't crying—but I was put into the corner with my pants down and shirt lifted to think about it before I was able to survey what the damage was. And there was QUITE some redness going on.

Now, as I've mentioned before, James doesn't ever get fresh during the punishment, but afterwards it does turn him on a little when he's thinking about it generally, or looking at a pink bottom in a corner. So, James later said that it was the cutest spanking I'd ever gotten, and if he knew where the camera was, he would have taken a picture. But, again—only I knew where the camera was. J

That's right—the reminder that James and I, though very generous with our advice, have been only married for a single year—not even! This Sunday, on the 8^th, we're approaching our one-year anniversary. Whoot!

That's why we won't be blogging until Monday, at the least. We're going up to Kerrville, TX and Los Maples and we're hikin' until Sunday and then we're going for dinner at the Melting Pot. It's bound to be tons of fun.

What do you like about being married?

I really just enjoy being married in itself. And because I'm more honest on my blog than anywhere else, I like that marriage applies a sort of "ownership"—we have formed really into "one", and because of that, we really hold an allegiance together that I don't think people who are "just dating" really get. James and I are really invested in the other. There's also the knowledge that our future, despite what may happen to politics or economics or work, always lies together, and that's very comforting.

In short—partnerships/relationships may feel like they fill the void—but nothing quite does it like marriage. I know sometimes you think that if you get married that you will be stuck forever with someone who's NOT into spanking, or IS into spanking, and you're scared to death that you won't be able to get out of it.

Don't feel that way—marriage can fill the void that spanking can't, and marriage is stronger than a dislike of discipline. Either way, it's better to be married than to not be married.

Is it easy?

Like breathing. Now—you know it's easier to breathe in the clear air of the country than in the muggy cities. Same thing—it's not easy in adversity. James and I have been so stressed nearly all year by finances, and house-sales, and home-improvement, and everything else. There have been times where I have been at each other's throats—defensive, exasperated, etc. But we've pressed through it until we're breathing fresh air again.

So, make sure your priorities are straight—it's all fine and good meeting gentlemen in hotel rooms for a fine evening of spanking, but there's nothing like a man you can cuddle with on Saturday mornings (and James LOVES cuddling). If you're lucky though, you can find both--if you want them to be seperate things, then... Choose marriage, and loose the spanking--because you can have a happy marriage without it. But just don't go through life alone!

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Since Korey has upped the ante by creating a repeating series, and since I've promised her I'd post much more often, I've decided to do the same. The general purpose of the series is to discuss and respond to complaints that women have about men (especially potential HOH's) that I consider unreasonable or silly.

Upon hearing the subject of my series, Korey initially suggested (somewhat jokingly) that I title it "Quit your bitching woman!", and in a sense this title is more accurate than "A Man's Response". However, I decided to be less combative, because the "woman" I'm referring to is certainly not Korey, but rather a generic "modern woman". Furthermore, these are not meant to be responses specifically to Korey's posts, although they may seem to immediately follow them suspiciously often. For the most part I usually agree with what she has to say. They may address side issues indirectly raised by Korey's posts, or be about completely different issues. I'm going to try to keep them to a reasonable length.

Now, a confession... I play video games, for a couple of hours a week on average. I am not at all ashamed of this, I only call it a confession because I suspect a reasonable fraction of DD-minded women just decided that I am not worthy to be HOH. Even outside the DD community, I have found that a decent fraction of women have decided that if a man plays and enjoys video games, he must be immature and childish. I could give a detailed justification for why I find video games to be a perfectly acceptable pastime, how in many ways they are much more intellectually stimulating than TV, and how they can actually be a very family friendly activity, but I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'm simply going to make a blunt statement. First, however, I need to define two terms. I will make no effort to actually look these up in a dictionary, I will instead simply give what I use them to mean. (Why am I being so pedantic? Because as Korey pointed out, I'm an aerospace engineer who is still in grad school, and I am used to having approximately ten people edit, re-edit, and in general bitch and moan about everything I write. I humbly apologize for taking this out on you.) Now, the definitions:

Spare Time:
Time that is available for doing things that amuse you, for no other reason than that they amuse you.

Spare Money:
Money that is available to spend on things that amuse you, for no other reason than that they amuse you.

Now, the statement: Provided that he isn't doing anything morally reprehensible, it is none of your business what your husband does with his spare time or his spare money. Furthermore, with the same caveat about morality, it is none of his business what you do with yours, even if he is a strict, hard-spanking HOH.

Note that I make no comment about how much spare time or spare money a person should have. This is dictated by circumstances. How much do you earn? Is the house paid off? Do you have kids or not? Is it a really busy week at work or not? Are relatives in town or not? Etc. How much spare time a person has is very much their spouse's business. If a man is playing video games when he needs to be working, this is certainly a problem. If a man is spending excessively on video games, that is a problem. If a man is neglecting his family to play video games, that is a problem. These are reasonable points that a woman should raise with her husband, especially if he is the HOH. If he is a good HOH, he should honestly consider what she is saying, and if it is at all reasonable, adjust his behavior. As in everything else, if he isn't sure who is right, he should err on the side of doing what his wife asks, because that is the chivalrous thing to do.

If she is being completely unreasonable, however, that is what the paddle is for. If you just gave the ok for her to spend $100 on shoes, and she then claims you are wasting money when you buy video game for $50, she might well need a paddling. If your wife just spent two hours watching "Project Runway" while you mowed the lawn, and is now griping that you want to play "Halo" for a little while, she probably needs a paddling. Finally, if the last three movies you've been to with your wife all had Sandra Bullock in them, and you didn't complain, but she throws a fit when you want to watch "Predator", she most definitely needs a paddling.

I was watching one of my favorite shows, 30-Rock, and they make fun of this "Catch Phrase" where they list a common complaint of a man and say it's a "deal breaker". IE: If your man wears a big diamsond necklace that says "Pussy" on it—that's a Deal-Breaker, Ladies!" It's equivalent to Jeff Foxworthy's "Redneck" jokes, but as I was watching, I couldn't help but realize that there's so many "deal breakers" that happen in our community, as well. Here's a few.

Askin' More Than He's Doin'? – That's a DD Deal-Breaker, Ladies!


Many women get taken advantage of as soon as she makes it quite obvious that she's a submissive, and wants a dominant boyfriend/husband. What happens is they think they can boss you around, because as soon as you say anything, than you're being "uppity" and "need a spanking". Don't let them get away with this. A TRUE HOH will never ask more of you than he does of himself—ever. He's a problem fixer—not a problem dealer.

Is he spendin' your dough instead of savin' your dough? That's a DD Deal-Breaker, Ladies!

I know that you keep hearing "Carpe Diem", with Oprah and those like her saying that you need to "live in the moment". And it's true—you should. But always be mindful of the future—it's not going away just because you're ignoring it. A good HOH will not spend all your money on a video game and then gasp when you buy a nice pair of shoes. He SHOULD monitor your spending, but he should also be monitoring his own. That doesn't mean be cheap—it means be frugal—wisely frugal. A good HOH always has future goals that he knows will come and when that time comes, you shouldn't have to worry about it, because the HOH has already made proper provisions.

Is he grippin' school by the fingernails? That's a DD Deal-Breaker, Ladies!
I see this happen a lot because James is still in Grad school. It's disconcerning to me James is working as hard to get through as quickly as possible, while still making sure that he has enough experience and connections so that he can easily get a job when he is finished, but there's so many that seem like they would be satisfied being in school forever. And it's not just the aerospace department—my friend has the same problem who's a biology grad student—he's been working on his masters for YEARS now. Ph.Ds take a long time, but if they're full-time students, it should NOT take more than eight years (That's six years after undergrad; 10 years in college total).

A lot of the reason why they do this is because they're afraid of that next step, they're afraid of the real-world, they're afraid of making decisions and they're afraid of leaving their friends, and the girlfriend/wife/children be damned. It's selfish and immature. A good HOH will always put the needs of his family above his own personal desires and fears. Always.

This will hopefully be a repeating series. For you DD-dreamers, check back soon for more reality-check deal-breakers. It's important that before you ask someone to be an HOH, for them to ALREADY be an HOH. You can't change a man.