Soap and Leather

I can’t even begin to describe what it’s been like around our farm since I last posted.  I’d almost forgotten I had a blog! Well, not really.  It was in the back of my mind, especially on the few nights that I had received discipline from DH.  I know this isn’t very submissive of me as a wife, but during those moments I was writing posts in my head as a distraction. How will I relay this story?  Will readers think he is being mean and unfair, or will they understand?  Am I the only one who distracts herself?  Or attempts to do so?

After having read other HoH and domestic discipline blogs, I feel that perhaps there will be understanding.  No, I am certain of it.  I believe the women will relate to me and the dear husbands will see my husband’s view.

This is just another side blogging issue, but I saw that comments were coming through without needing my approval, and I thought perhaps I had inadvertently changed it, and was quite happy about that.  I logged in today, however, for the first time in a couple of weeks and found another comment needing approval.  I do not get why some are going through and others not?

I suppose it does not matter.

We have not done anything the last few weeks but worked in the fields and then fall into bed at night.  Most nights, I gather.  I left off with a cliffhanger in my last post.  DH naturally followed up with what he said was coming, and it involved some unpleasant reminders.  I know that he is correct in what he says.  You can take the girl out of the hills, but you cannot take the hills out of the girl!

Rather, DH believes that he can.  He comes from those same hills, though, and I remind him that what we do comes from there as well.  He is not very open to that comparison, stating very pointedly (and accurately) that what he does is very different.  I am not subjugated. I am not held down to a place of simply being.  He is not the most important in the household, he tells me, although he is the head.  His role is providing for us and making sure that I, and the children as well, have what is needed to be the best we can be.  He takes pride in that provision, he tells me.

Disciplining is part of that.  Yes, I admit, it does work wonders and we have a wonderful relationship.  I adore this man even after all of these years, and it is clear to anyone who knows us that he adores me.

The discipline, however, we must get to it.  That is what you read for?

I hate to admit it, but it did involve a bar of soap.  I do not know how many people grew up with this as a form of punishment as a child when you would say something foul.  It was called washing your mouth out, to make it clean, I suppose.  Symbolically, of course.  DH uses this on occasion to drive the point home, especially when I have been using more expletives than he has patience for.

Later that night after the children were in bed asleep, he approached me in our bedroom as I was changing into my nightshirt.  The first thing he did was give me this bear hug, which is signature of him in our house.  He is known for his engulfing hugs, even with the children.  There is something about them that make you feel protected and cared for and loved.  He held me for a moment and kissed my head.  He smelled of the fields, and of hay, and of tobacco all rolled together.  I relate that to maleness, the man smell I call it.

He took my hand and sat down on the edge of our bed, which left me standing in front of him.

He told me again how much he disliked the language I used oftentimes.  He expressed how very much he disliked it when I did such in front of the children.  He also firmly told me that such disrespect aimed at him, again in front of the children especially, was intolerable.  He loves me, he said.  He loves my independence and spirit, but there must also be a respect and harmony.  It was his job to make sure everything remained smooth.

I wasn’t too shocked when he pulled me over his knee, lifted up my nightshirt, and pulled down my underpants.  I had a brief thought of rebellion, yet that dissipated with the first swat of his hand.  At first I was concerned with the noise. We rarely use the bedroom for discipline involving spanking, but will on occasion.  The children’s rooms are not too close, and our house is well-built and insulated.  It was late, so it was a certainty that they were sleeping soundly.

My husband’s hand falls heavily and fast, so it did not take much time for me to start wishing I had made better choices earlier in that day.  He let me up, and planted me straight in the corner.

I heard him milling around in the bathroom, and soon he called to me to join him there.  We have used soap before, but it’s not common.  I did, thought, figure this is where we were headed next.  I was being disciplined for my unruly mouth after all.  Lo and behold, there my sweet man stood with a new bar of soap in his hand, waving it at me as he lectured about shameful language.  He stated how offensive he personally found it, particularly in his wife when she directed it at him.  No voices raised; my DH does not do that.  His tone is certain and unwavering.  That alone prompts me to listen, and obey.  Not fear.  Never fear.  I have been deeply upset by the prospect of punishment before, but I have never once feared my husband or for my safety.  That is, I think, what makes this so much different than what I saw growing up.  If I were to adamantly say “NO!” (and I have, yet that is an entirely different tale), then he would not force me, or beat me into submission.  Never that man, who loves me more than  his own life.

He told me to open.  That is what he does.  He expects me to show my compliance and submission by obeying, not by him forcing onto me.  He would not shove the soap in my mouth; I would take it willingly.  This was very hard to do, and I hesitated.  He just stared at me with those piercing eyes, and I obeyed and opened and took that vile bar into my mouth.  For a few moments we just stood there, staring at one another.  It must have been a ridiculous looking scene.  I could feel the soap starting to react with my spit, and it began to burn my tongue while I concentrated on not swallowing.  I’m not certain how long he made me keep it in my mouth.  Perhaps five minutes?  Then he pulled it out gently and allowed me to spit once into the sink, but not rinse.  That was awful!

We went back into the bedroom, where he made me lie over pillows in the center of the bed.  I did so with that horrible taste still on my tongue.  I knew this routine.  The belt would come out again, and this time it would not be over my britches.

He lifted my nightshirt up gently.  He seemed to consider my underpants, yet finally pulled them down as well, to just below my bottom.  DH tries not to hit my thighs, although it is not unheard of for him to place a stroke or two there for an extra point made. He then took his belt out of the drawer and began to stripe my bottom with it.

It was too much, so I cried into the bed and tried to stay in place.  Soon he was finished and on the bed with me, soothing me, and rubbing my hair, my back, and my bottom.  It didn’t take long for me to finish, and he helped me up to go rinse out my mouth with water.  The taste doesn’t fully go away regardless of how many rinses, so I brushed my teeth as well.  That helped.  When I came back to the room, he was undressing for his shower.  I curled up under the blankets while he took his shower, and considered that he was of course correct in that I needed to try so much harder to curb the language.  Who wants their kids walking around saying the F-bomb as if it is perfectly okay?  Cursing is not such a big deal to me, and it wasn’t where I come from.  However, DH is correct in how it can make you look if you use it as part of your vocabulary.  He is correct in that I have tried so hard to have the life of education, and that such words can make you appear less educated.  Crude.  I don’t want that for me or my children.

After his shower, DH came and snuggled with me under the blankets.  He kissed my ear, caressed my belly, and told me that he wanted only for us to be our best selves, and to teach our kids to be their best selves.

So, I agree that I save those words for the plants and dead chickens that can’t hear me.

sammi

About farmersammi

I am a spanked wife in a rural Ohio farmland. I would not have our life any other way.
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22 Responses to Soap and Leather

  1. Bob says:

    Great blog!! I enjoyed this!! The two of you seem to have such a great relationship!! I live in Ohio too, except in the northeast section. You must live in the southern part of the state near the River!!

  2. Mikki says:

    Oh bless your heart.. and your bottom! I’m so happy for you that you have such a beautiful marriage! I can tell you love each other so much!

    I love your blog and intend on reading the rest at another time! Welcome to blogland! I can’t wait to read more! ;o)

    • farmersammi says:

      Thank you for the welcome, and for saying you like my blog! It makes my heart smile. I hope you will not have to wait to read more! Well, I do hope you’ll have to wait to read about new spankings, but not wait on me to update! Ha Ha!

  3. Oh Sammi, I think that your husband is a caring and loving guy, and I certainly understand, especially since you are in agreement with the way he uses discipline. I like very much that he expects your compliance but never forces it. Submission is a gift, but their loving dominance makes it easier to give. And the results of both together balance a couple in wonderful ways.
    From what I’ve read in this post, you are a very lucky woman! I do wish you luck with abstaining from using bad language. I think he’s right with his reasoning, but I tell you, I can let it slip out too when things are stressful. This was a lovely telling. -Elysia

    • farmersammi says:

      Thank you, and yes, you are right about DH being right! I do feel very lucky, as he is a very good man who loves me. I know that some do not find love like that in their whole lives. He can be very insistent, but he would never force my submission, although sometimes it feels forced! 🙂

  4. Susie says:

    Sammi, I think your husband was very fair though I’m sure you were glad when the evening was over. There’s a sense in your writing that he really understands what you need and that you trust him completely with your heart. My guy is also the strong, quiet type who almost always hugs first and is loving and kind even in the middle of discipline. I know that doesn’t make much sense, but I’m guessing you might know what I mean.

  5. farmersammi says:

    I was glad the discipline was over, but I love to snuggle with him. He doesn’t always seem to know what I need, but I suppose that is because he is a man! HA HA! Yes, though, he does realize I need a strong man at my side.

  6. Sammi, I do so enjoy reading your blog. I had to chuckle at a couple of your lines, since I often find myself saying them to the wife. “You can take the girl out of the hills, but you cannot take the hills out of the girl!” I’m not sure, we’d ever want to take all of the hills out of the girl, that is an important part of her charm. I too remind her that I make sure she gets what she needs “to be the best (sh)e can be.” She, too, needs reminding that this sometimes means responding differently than how we were raised. Great post, lady.

  7. Justine says:

    I enjoy your blog. You and your husband have a wonderful relationship. Looking forward to your next post.

    • farmersammi says:

      I am grateful for your comment, and that you take the time to read what I write. I am genuinely flattered that people find what I say to be interesting. I hope you will not have to wait very long for a post. I take so long to get back on the computer!

  8. Grace says:

    I had to laugh at you writing posts in your head to distract yourself! I think that sort of thing is why Michael always makes me count when he’s delivering discipline (not maintenance). Big meanie! lol

    You and your husband sound like a sweet couple. I’ve been enjoying your blog. ; )

  9. Amanda says:

    Don’t tell your DH I told you this…but…should you ever have to taste soap again…..take an old pillowcase or a piece of an old sheet…and rub in around your mouth. The soap taste is taken away instantly. (Mercifully, my DH has never even threatened with soap….I learned this trick as a child. Be well,
    Amanda

    • farmersammi says:

      With my mouth, I think soap will be in my future again. 😦 Thank you for that tip. DH does not get on the computer. He feels it is a waste of good time. So, no worries about DH finding out that you told me. It will be our secret! I can not speak for the others here who use soap, though.

  10. Sara says:

    Hi Sammi, nice post, and welcome to blogging! I think many of us can relate to your feelings! I know I sure can! Sara

  11. Pingback: Tuesday Tingles | The Pink Report

  12. Pink says:

    I love the way that you write, Sammi. I’m so happy to have found your blog!

    Keep it up, please. 🙂

    XX,

    Pink

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