05 October, 2005


By the time last Friday rolled around, I was in a supremely cranky mood (more on that in a different post). In the interest of being slightly more pleasant to be around, I made my usual mistake of substituting brattiness for cheerfulness.


My official excuse for crankiness, I suppose, was the fact that one of my friends needed to drop by to pick something up from me, and she was incredibly late. I had opted to hold dinner until she had been here and gone, so that W. and I could have Shabbos* dinner uninterrupted. My friend took far longer than she had expected to get here, and dinner was getting progressively overcooked. I finally gave up and served dinner, and just as we were about to light the candles… yup, my friend made it here. I went to let her in, and she needed to come into the apartment for something or other, and told us to just start dinner. So we lit the candles and said the blessings and started eating, even though that seemed rather rude (we had invited her to share dinner with us, but she said she had to leave and couldn’t stop for dinner). While my friend was here, I found I couldn’t help teasing W. in front of her, because W. blushes so very nicely. My friend finally left right around when W. and I finished eating. This was just as well, because in my dedicated procrastination (and, ahem, my dedication to my wife’s needs, of course), I had looked up the Torah portion for the week. We read this, and I was getting silly and snarky. Wen teased me for being a brat.

But then, just as soon as we were finished with dinner, she stood up suddenly and said, “Get into the bedroom.”

I was a little mystified, and asked why.

“You’re being a brat. Get into the bedroom now!”

So, of course, I followed her into the bedroom. I stood near the door as she rummaged through our toy cupboard, and under the immense pile of laundry by the side of the bed. Finally, I asked, “What are you looking for?”

“I can’t find the loopy toy,” she said irritably. “Go get the bath brush.” She had picked the two implements that are most likely to make me submit in a matter of seconds. I went and got the bath brush. She ordered me to pull down my pants and lay across the bed, and I complied.

She settled herself on the bed, and then informed me that I was getting the spanking for being irreverent about the Torah. And for being a brat in general. This was a useful indicator to me that the spanking was mostly in play.

She delivered firm smacks with the bath brush, with pauses in between while she lectured me on irreverence. Then she shifted to talking about me being a brat. The smacks came even harder. She paused in the spanking, and mused, “When I’m waiting for my students to do something, I start counting. And if they don’t get it, I keep… on… counting!” She emphasized each word with the hardest smacks yet.

I was torn between my desire to be good and submissive and do what she wanted, and my desire for more spanking. Also, I couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted me to do. (I hope she gives her students more guidance than she was giving me!)

Then she mentioned teasing her at dinner, and I got it. After about half a dozen more smacks, I apologized for teasing her to make her blush. The spanking stopped, and I was forgiven. At least for the time being.


I was still a little cranky on Saturday, pretty much for the same reasons as on Friday. We spent the morning having brunch with one of our friends, and then spent the afternoon going to yard sales, where we made many decidedly non-kinky purchases. I worked on my dissertation for three hours in the evening, and then I went to spend a little bit of time with W. But, as I said, I was incredibly cranky, and not feeling up to talking about it.

I realized pretty quickly that I was not fit for human company, so I went into my study, so I wouldn’t be inflicting myself on W. Now, I know this is not a great way to deal with anything that’s bothering me. I just stew, and she feels shut out. But it’s a very difficult habit for me to get out of, and when I’m in a bad mood, I probably don’t put nearly enough effort into breaking the habit.

So there I was in my study, putzing around on my computer, feeling irritable. The door burst open, and W. said, “Get in here!”

“What?!” I asked. This is not her usual method of coaxing me to talk about my worries.

“You heard me. Get in here!”

I slowly followed her into the bedroom, and saw that she had found the dreaded loopy toy.

For the second evening in a row, I was ordered to pull down my pants and lay down across the bed. She brought that evil “toy” down across my bottom with moderate force. I can’t remember the specifics of her lecture, but she made very clear to me that sulking and shutting her out was not an option. She didn’t care whether I was angry or sad or whatever, but I don’t have the option of just blocking her out and ignoring her. It wasn’t precisely a punishment spanking, but she was doing a very good job of making her point clear.

She finished, and I was surprised at my ability to actually talk to her about what was bothering me. So I felt a bit less cranky, things were a little better between the two of us, and we managed to have a reasonably pleasant evening together.

*W. has been wanting to be somewhat more observant of her Jewish faith, and I’ve been trying to be as supportive as I can in this. Fortunately, W. is pretty reconstructionist in her Judaism (which means adapting it to her actual life and beliefs), so we mesh pretty well. Thus, backslid Southern Baptist and current pagan that I am, every Friday, I bake challah and make a special meal for Shabbos. Maybe 52 weeks of observing the Sabbath somehow makes up for the three weeks of having a Christmas tree.

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