“Adieu: The Final Curtain”

“Mr. Gorbachev, Tear down these blogs!"

Well…we’re not actually going to tear them down. But we will not be posting any more entries – either here or at “The Sweetness of Sugar”. That’s right – the final curtain has fallen upon our blogs.

There are two reasons for this – one a contributor to the other.

First, we feel we have said everything that we could say about our relationship in and with “this thing we do”. To say any thing more would be to basically say what has already been said and for y’all to hear what has already been heard.

And second, feeling this way means it takes a lot more energy - and time - to dress up and repackage the redundancies. We confess, we just don’t have the motivation for that. And we don’t want this to become an unenjoyable chore. But we can see that it's headed that way.

We are thankful for all of the friends we have made through this experience. You have taught us an awful lot. We are especially grateful for those trailblazers who, by opening up their own lives through their blogs, have made priceless contributions to the very salvation and resurrection (quite literally) of our relationship. We could only hope that we have that kind of contribution to some couple who came after us.

Eventually, our blogs will fade to the bottom of your blog rolls. We’ll become the seemingly vacant and abandoned house on the south end of Domestic Discipline Avenue. But don’t be fooled, this old couple still lives here. Like Tom Bodett, we're still leaving the light on for you: we'll still be answering the door and responding to any comments that are made to any of our posts.

We'll still be lurking, and listening, and learning and even commenting on other blogs. And like good neighbors, we will still be offering up a cup of Sugar (and a hand full of BabyMan) to anyone we notice moving onto the block. We just won’t be writing posts.

It’s the end of our blogs but not the end of "this thing we do" for us. Frankly, it would easier to get out of the mob than it would be to get out of the lifestyle. 

So feel free to use our email addresses (babymansugaranne@live.com and sugaranne@live.com) whether it is to just say, “Hello” or to ask us about something in regard to your own journey in "this thing we do". We are still here to help if you feel like we can. 

We wanna thank each and every one of you: "Thank you", "Thank you",  "Thank you", Thank you", Thank you", "Thank you",  "Thank you", "Thank you", "Thank you", "Thank you", Thank you", "Thank you", and "Thank you" - is that everybody? If we've missed anyone, well, "Thank you too!"

"Thank you" to all of you. This has truly, truly been a fulfilling and life-changing experience for the both of us individually and together as one.

With that we - with love and great affection - bid you…

…Adieu,

BabyMan and SugarAnne.

"Hitting 'Pause on Cue"

Nothing can challenge a relationship more than the “winds of change” – even a solid Dd relationship. SugarAnne has arrived. We knew it was coming. The signs have been there – undulating off and on and back and forth for several months . And now - now it’s here. SugarAnne has hit ‘pause right on cue – menopause that is.
The “winds”, gusting with a force that is worthy of Dorothy’s last name (Gale), send her swirling about in a hormonal tempest of hurricaniacal proportions. She gets hot flashes, experiences sleepless nights, has hypersensitive emotions as well as heightened senses. All day one day it was, “Ooooh that smell? Can’t you smell that smell?”. I'm like, “Yeah I smell it. It’s called menopause. And it stinks like the rancid fart of a constipated buffalo!”

It’s been kinda like living with a whole bunch of new people. Namely, Sweaty, Sleepy, Bloaty and Forgetful (there’s no sign of Itchy, Bitchy and Psycho yet – but there’s still time). According to the ‘net, Sugar is not nearly – I repeat, not nearly – as bad as she could be. At least not yet. And hopefully she’ll never be (there’s some real horror stories out there!) I sleep with one eye open just in case. But as she goes through her stuff, I’m going through my own stuff in response to her going through her stuff. And all of this stuff is tossing our big ole Dd cruise ship around like a toy dingy in a whirlpool with the jets on full thrust.

I don’t have a complete handle on this thing yet (probably never will). And I confess, the turbulence can cause confidence to trickle out of my Domdentity like pee pee out of a sneezing girl. That old doubt from the early days begins to seep back in. You know, doubt about giving instructions and expecting them to be followed. And doubt about following up with the “consequences” – believe it or not.

But thanks to over a year of “this thing we do”, I can at least recognize some (not all) of the opportunities to “help” Sugar to stop, settle down and get beyond when she’s trapped inside of herself. That’s when it’s my time to “hit pause on cue”.

Recently I gave myself a 10.0 on executing when one of those “opportunities” presented itself. Yeah I graded myself. I need the confidence boost okay?! So sue me.

I noticed that Sugar was on the cusp of crippling anxiety the other day. Some unspoken worry had wrinkled her forehead. Her hunched up shoulders betrayed accumulated tension. When she’s like that I feel it’s my obligation as her protector to break in and help her escape. Obligation and Motivation: 10.0

I called her over, disregarding her weak protests (she seemed to know what she needed too). I had her slide her own jeans down and peel back her own panties. How’s that for confidence, huh? Confidence: 10.0

I spoke to her softly reassuring her that no matter how kooky she gets (said in a nice way of course) that I’ll be there for her. I made it clear that I understood what she was going through (to the extent that I could, thanks to the internet) and that I desired to comfort her best I could. Artistic Expression: 10.0

As I spoke to her I began to gently massage her bottom, then spank gently with my hand. Switching to the leather paddle the spanks rose in speed and intensity until they were harder than a cold winter morning. She got all squirmy-squrimy. I dig that.

I slowed the swats down until they were as loving and as gentle as a summer breeze under her skirt. We went through this winter/summer process for about 20 or 25 minutes. I then sent her to the bedroom where I "stuck the landing" by making love to her slow and sweet. Technical Merit: 10.0

Yes, yo’boy B’Man is feeling pretty proud of himself. And SugarAnne? Well, she’s “happier than the morning sun” – at least for now. We’re still navigating the waters of these “winds of change”. And we will be for some time I suppose. But it’s good to have the confidence to be able to step up to the plate and “hit pause on cue” to stop the madness – if only for a while.

“Making Love Outta Nothing at All”

Don’t think I didn’t want to. I did. I certainly felt like it. We’d been doing it like rabbits lately. But I just wanted to talk – about nothing. Talk about nothing in particular. Talk more to a “who” than about any what”. So we covered the blog rolls, just like we do each morning:

“Sara said…” (insert such and such).
         “Oh she agrees with me good!” (Glee is more than a TV show).
“And Audra did…” (insert so and so).
         “Oh that’s great I can’t wait to see it!”
“Did you read Daisy’s joke?”
         “Doughboy? Yep, hilarious!”

But I wasn’t at the desktop nor she at the laptop. We were in bed. Lying down. She on her back. Me on my stomach. Just talking. No computers. Talking about nothing in particular. Talking more to a “who” than about any “what”.

Out of the background Law and Order interjects. It’s not an interruption. It’s provision for what’s happening:

“Not guilty.”
       “No, gwilty”, a patented bastardization of the English.
“Not guiiiiiilty”, as if a sing-song would make it so.
       “Gwiiiiiilty! Gwilty, gwilty, gwilty.” The pronunciation as irritating as the opinion.

I flip onto my back and, as if connected by gears, she – onto her stomach. My thirsty hand falls upon her behind. SMACK!

“Hey!”

Out of the future the coming year penetrates and takes its place as impromptu fodder for this everyday confabulation:

“I have so much to do today.”
       “Don’t over do it today.”
“I’m starting my new diet.”
       “Take it easy at the gym today.”
“I’m not doing too bad. I’ve only put on 4 pounds.”
       “We have a great future behind you. Don’t go and ruin it y'hear?”

She subtly pushes our aforementioned “future” up to drink a squeeze from my hand.

"The more the merrier."
       "Hm."

The ingrained ritual is now complete. But it’s not a prelude to having sex today. But that doesn't mean love isn't being made. Actually, love IS being made.

Don’t think I didn’t want to. I did. I certainly felt like it. We’d been doing it like rabbits lately. But I just wanted to talk – about nothing. Talk about nothing in particular. Talk more to a “who” than about any what”.

That is how love is made.

"Dear Readers"

Dear Readers: Please consider the following question submitted in the comment section of the "A Peeve-stipation Situation" post. Your thoughts, ideas and wisdom are not only sought but I am certain would be appreciated.

Hi B'Man (and others),
I'm a lurker on DD blogs, have been for a while now. This is my first comment! I really enjoy reading your blog and SugarAnne's as well. I'm not married, but I sometimes consider DD in the back of my mind when I think about marriage.

My question is: what happens when the wife is the one with all the pet peeves? Let's say you have these pet peeves about cleanliness and orderliness - you hope that SugarAnne wants to follow them not because you can spank her, but because they're important to you and she respects that. The spanking is just a tool that you can use to make it really happen. In my case, my boyfriend doesn't care as much about cleanliness, while I have enough pet peeves that you could run power plants off the steam that comes out of my ears. I know he would want to respect me and try to follow them, but I don't get any tools to enforce it. Isn't that unfair? If the HoH has the higher standards, he can enforce them. If the wife has higher standards, she has to lower them to those of the HoH?


To the Reader submitting the question:
Thanks for delurking and making a comment on the blog. I am submitting your question to the wider wisdom of the readership to which it was directed. I am hopeful that persons more qualified than I would render an opinion and that you will be able to distill the wisdom and glean what would work for you from the myriad of ways that your question is handled in other relationships.

I'm sure I have a peeve or two (or three) that ticks Sugar off but her temperament about these things are very different from mine. And that goes a long way toward harmony in our relationship. One thing is certain for me: the privilege of a Dd relationship with Sugar, and particularly her consent to be disciplined, instills and inspires in the deepest heart of me a desire to do better for her. Through Dd I have experienced a swelling up in me of a need to look out for her best interests; a stronger desire to care for her; a more passionate love for her; and an intense desire to keep her happy. I can't really explain it but a Dd relationship built on love, communication, trust and integrity would and should produce positive changes in both parties.

"A Quick Toast"

       With 2010 now a mere drop into the river of centuries

                             May you drink deeply of 2011.

              From B'Man and Sugar, Happy New Year Y'all!