I want my nine!

My fiancé and I were having a discussion back on June 2nd and our age difference came up as one of the topics.  I don't really remember the details but I have no doubt that we were probably picking on each other.  I am almost nine years younger that he is.  Our birthdays are 13 days apart, which means we are both Ares - no wonder we can both be so freaking stubborn sometimes!  Anyway, I just about watched lightning strike his lightbulb (you know, the invisible one that hovers above your head) as he came up with the idea that I should receive nine strokes every day for the rest of our lives.  He smiled at the thought of his brilliant idea and I giggled watching his expressions play across his handsome face.

The next morning I wrote him a note that simply said, "You know I'll hold you to at least that!"  Due to temporary insanity (or that's what I'm blaming it on anyway), I also added, "Hmm...you know I kinda want my set of nine to come from your paddle I think.  Most likely not all at full force 'cause that will probably be too much, but I want them from yours because it's the first paddle that you made me! :-)"

After he read the note, I asked him, "What happens if we miss a set of nine?"

He replied, "That's OK.  They rollover!"  To which I cracked up.

Would you know it, after fifteen days (not including today), he has only missed one set of nine!  As for actually using the paddle he made, he is thankfully very aware of whether or not I can handle it and will change to a different implement as the need arises.  There have been a couple of days where I happened to still be sore from the previous night's activities, so he simply adjusts accordingly.

We are usually in the kitchen when he decides, "I want my nine!" because I'm being sassy or giving him attitude or just because he feels like it.  One of us will go retrieve the paddle from the bedroom closet and then I'll bend over until my elbows are resting on one of our tall stools.  On a normal day (and over jeans) with his paddle, I can take the first 4-5 pretty well, the next 3-4 I'm a bit more reluctant to not pull away and am definitely squeezing my eyes shut, and by the 9th my knees are just about to buckle.  Every now and then, using his budding Top logic, he will decide I need "one more to grow on," and I'll agree.  Afterward, he'll hug me and say, "Good job, baby," and I'll melt.

On days when all I get are the nine and a little bit of aftercare (because life gets busy or one of us is too tired), those couple of minutes out of the day mean the world to me.  I know I'm insatiable - there's no denying it, and to some I am absolutely spoiled being able to play even for a couple of minutes almost every day, but I can't help it.  I need it.  Thank you for putting up with me, my love.

Edit - Oh, and here's a photo of his paddle...all 3/4" thk. x 3 1/2" wide x 20" long of it.

Yikes!  Yep, temporary insanity.  Definitely can't handle too much of this thing.