The Disciplined Self Image

I wasn't having a difficult hormonal meltdown this month. As a matter of fact, I'd say I was having a pretty easy time of it. I remained in good spirits, kept a decent sense of humor in less than perfect situations... Okay, I was overeating a bit, and maybe I sported a teeny weeny bit of an attitude for a split second... but for the most part, I was the model of grace, elegance, and emotional fortitude. A bit of alcohol and chocolate were my salvation, but as per usual during these times I wind up being just a tad too self critical. Like a woman engulfed in the illusions of anorexia, I could only look at myself in the mirror and see fat. The last few days of giving my body whatever it craves, plus the water weight gain was causing a less than accurate reflection in my mirror.

Church had been rained out this Sunday. We normally set up services in the park by 10:00 am, and at about 9:40 we received a torrential storm complete with thunder, lightning, and a slight flash flood that lasted just long enough to shut down production. We decided to spend the morning at a local restaurant having Sunday brunch, and I was in charge of finding and choosing one on the internet. My search took a little longer than normal as I perused descriptions and reviews of several possibilities.

"What's taking you so long?" BabyMan yelled from the living room.

Now, hormones are a fascinating entity. They tend to lay dormant in the physiological makeup of an otherwise intelligent woman, and then suddenly reach out a clawed paw and swipe threateningly at innocent bystanders. "I'm workin' on it!" I shot back with a bit of an edge to my voice.

He came into the den. "What's so hard? All you have to do is find one restaurant..." he began.

I shot up my hand. "You know what? You need to back off. You're crowding me."

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head in amusement. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm working at my own pace here and I'll be ready when I'm ready."

BabyMan smiled. "Oh, I see what's happening here..."

I glanced up at that self satisfied smirk on his face.

I raised an indignant index finger. "Yeah, what's happening here is you need to get out of my face until I..."

That was it. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and my forearm with the other and pulled me out of the computer chair. The next thing I know, I'm bent over the arm of the den couch with my face smashed down in a throw pillow. BabyMan's hand came down fast and hard on my denim covered butt over and over again as I struggled, wiggled and kicked my legs against his vice-like grip from his other arm across my waist. I could hear him chuckling above me as he blurted a mock lecture on my attitude. "You think you can talk to me any old way? Do you know who I am? You need to get a grip on the way you talk to me, woman..."

At first it was funny. I found myself laughing at myself for a few seconds as I wiggled against his grip, until I realized that I was experiencing a certain amount of... PAIN! I soon found myself screaming at the top of my lungs into the pillow. The spanking continued until I was exhausted enough to stop struggling, and I lay there, resigned to scream "I'm sorry" into the pillow until he finally stopped.

When he finally let me up, he placed me back in the computer chair, and told me to finish looking for a brunch spot and be quick about it.

Brunch was wonderful. I had a glass of champaign, and a spicy Bloody Mary along with an all you can eat buffet... a culinary hormonal dream. Unfortunately I sat in front of a full length mirror and kept catching a glimpse of what I perceived as a humongous butt and thighs.

I had already weighed myself that morning, and winced at a reading of three pounds heavier than I was Friday morning. I know, I know... water weight. But at the time you couldn't convince me of it. Upon returning home, I made a declaration of dangerous proportions. BabyMan and I had discussed this subject many times, and I wasn't about to allow him to dissuade me this time.

"I'm going on a cleansing diet and drop ten pounds." I announced with determined conviction.

"No you're not," he said. "You promised me you were going to maintain your present weight and not lose any more."

"I never promised any such thing! You decided that. I never agreed."

"You lose so much as five pounds, you're going to be too skinny. I'm not going to be married to a stick. No more weight loss."

Now after the spanking I received a few hours earlier, you'd think I'd be able to make my point with a little less attitudinal fervor. "Hey, you know who has the final decision in my weight? Me, that's who. If I want to lose ten pounds..."

"That's it. Go get the paddle."

I froze. "Are you kidding me? This isn't fair!"

"I think we have a few things to discuss, and this hormonal thing is about become out of control. You need an endorphine injection, and we have to come to an agreement about this weight obsession that you're having... again."

I searched his eyes for any sign that he was joking. He remained stoic and immovable.

Damn!

I stomped into the bedroom and brought the paddle back into the living room. He had sat on the couch with a pillow on his lap to make my butt raise higher in the air. He took the paddle and patted the pillow with it. "Let's go," he said.

"This sucks!" I said as I placed myself over his lap for our discussion.

"Now, we both agreed that you would get a spanking for every pound you lose beyond what you've maintained for the past eight weeks."

"It's my body!"

"And you're my wife." BabyMan sighed.  "Okay, here's the new deal. You may lose 9 pounds if you wish, but I reserve the right to pull the plug on that at any time. In the mean time, you'll take a spanking now for those 9 pounds."

"So I'm being spanked for nine pounds I haven't lost yet?"

"Yes. I'm being very generous here. Nine for the price of one."

"What if I never lose the weight? Then I'm getting a spanking for nothing."

"No, this is also a stress reliever."

"I don't need a stress reliever!" I protested.

"I think maybe you do."

"If I'm stressed, it's because you're the cause of it!" I bellowed.

And with that he yanked down my panties and proceeded to paddle me until I was red and raw. I bucked and jerked with each strike as he pushed my legs and my upper body back down with his elbows. Several times I reached back and covered myself whereupon I was told to place my hand back on his ankle. And I did... until I just lost it. I reached back and by the grace of God caught the paddle in my fingers. I yanked it out of his hand, and tossed it unceremoniously across the room.

Victory! I laughed with an almost sinister tone. Until it hit me what I had done.  "Uh oh!"

BabyMan understands that my self image is delicate, especially during the hormonal hurricanes, and I really appreciate that he loves me just the way I am right now.  I also recognize that what I see in the mirror is often a misconstrued reality of who and what I really am, and I'll count on him to not allow me to go overboard with my quest for perfection.  Still, hopefully by August I'll be in one of those itty bitty bikinis.

And all I had to do was sacrifice my butt for it.