"We're In A Place!"

SugarAnne has been absolutely radiant over the past few weeks. And this is remarkable because this is exactly this time of year that ever-increasing waves of depression tend to wash over our relationship. It is quite clear that her own developing “subdentity” is rising up to the surface. I am honored that she feels that she can trust me with this very vulnerable part of herself. She has developed a need for some form of spanking in our relationship. But she wants to avoid the very hard punishment spanking that my own rising Domdentity desires (on some level) to effectively administer. This lifestyle – it does something for her. That’s easy for both of us to see. And it does something for me as well. We are thriving. This has been probably the greatest season in our nine year marriage.

It’s possible that we won’t go much further into the domestic discipline part of this thing. The point we’re at right now – I assign her tasks, she completes them or receives a punishment spanking - we are both comfortable with. I am not unreasonable and she doesn’t feel like she's being suffocated. Some tasks are beneficial for making our home hospitable. Others are beneficial for her personal development. She likes that, and agrees that she needs the structure. I’m here to help. And help could mean a spanking. I have decided we will not be retreating from this approach in the foreseeable future.

I thought it would be fitting to make an official declaration of this fact. I wanted her to know that not only are we back in the saddle – after the past week – but also at a point of no return. And, of course, such an important declaration cannot be without “ceremony”.

Since it was a FridayWednesday, when I got home I asked her to make me a margarita. Also, to find some candles and to “girl up a notch”. She knows what that means. As I sip my drink she scurried off to choose a sexy silk black babydoll top I bought some time ago. It was a little more than a smidgen too small and her ample breasts threatened to escape. I was delighted. She placed the candles on the black granite countertop that separates the kitchen from the living area and lit them. I led her to the sofa in the den – our primary spanking venue – where she compliedand took a position of submission over my knee. It is only fitting that any declaration and ceremony would begin right here.

I began with gentle squeezes and loving caresses over rose colored bikini panties. Regulation. I lovingly told her how much I approved of the woman that she’d been revealing to me lately. She squirmed in agreement and pushed her roundness up in search of my gentle hand.

“Thatta girl”, I say as I lowered her panties. “Don’t be afraid to be a woman sweetie. I love seeing the woman in you”.

THWACK!

A low-level “mmmmmm” escaped her lips as she began to lose herself in the warm feelings rising from below. A long drawn out warm-up followed then the spanks flowed with ever-increasing intensity. They weren't so hard that she didn't want more, yet hard enough to reach the desired “sting” level. She could've taken more. But I stopped.

“We’re in this life sweetie”, I say, And “we’re not turning back. I love too much seeing the radiantly feminine and submissive woman in you. And as an official act and ceremony”, I declared firmly, “I’m going to “toast” your ass AND fuck you in every room of our home”. Her response, a surprised and joyful “mmmmmmmm”, filled the air. I commanded her to her knees on the den’s sofa. And as she leaned over the back of it with her ass pushed out toward me as demanded, I undid my pants and let them drop to my ankles. I took her – my hands on her hips, her panties stretched around her thighs - and I fucked her. Fucked her well, I say, like a man should fuck his woman. I fucked her and seized ownership of our advances in “this thing we do”.

The process began again and again as we moved from room to room: standing and bent at the waist over the living room sofa (while I looked out at the waves gently waxing the nighttime shoreline). Gentle squeezes and tender caresses to re-warm her tender globes, spanks long and drawn out that graduated into THWACKS - both hand and paddle – which built a fire on her ass and warm cream on her the walls of her sex. All the while I spoke to her about how she flourishes in this life - in submission; about how radiant she is when she allows her femininity to bubble up and overflow. “This is what it’s like to be a woman sweetie" I say to her, "to feel like a woman, to be loved like a woman, and made love to like a woman.” Followed then by the fuck of ownership, and a willful surrender that testified, “I’m yours. Please take me”.

The final stop on our ceremonial tour was the bedroom. There I placed her on her knees over a stack of pillows. With the lights on I could see the moistness of her arousal, the moistness of the tease she has endured so far. I sniff her like a predator, kiss like a lover, lick her like a tomcat at a fresh bowl of milk. And I then proceed to warm those buns up yet again, with ever-increasing intensity, until she can stand to be paddled.

It was there – in the bedroom - I took her again. But this time we made love. We made wild and lustful, passionate and tender love as we concluded the ceremonial declaration of “this thing we do”.

Her deepest feminine tendencies and my wildest masculine desires are yet to be fully discovered and tapped. But “were in a place!” right now - her words. “A damned good place!” My words.