Back when we were just starting to experiment with this thing we do, and I had just introduced spanking to Lynda, I made a deal with her.
The dishes were dirty again and they had been dirty for days. Instead of getting them done, she just pulled out more dishes until they were all piled high on the counters. And then it was too discouraging to deal with, so she put them off day after day.
It sounds so stupid, but this had become a major issue in our marriage. Most of the time we couldn’t invite anyone over because I was so embarrassed.
Normally, when this happened I would seethe for several days, waiting to see if this time she would actually do the task. I would finally reach my limit, come home with a silent clinched jaw and wade into them. The kitchen would resemble a hurricane with water splashing and dishes clattering as I got them taken care of. She would go into a quiet corner and wait out the storm.
I’d refrain from yelling but I think my quiet smoldering bothered her even more. Then we’d have a tense evening, and not talk about it the next day. And the dishes would begin to pile up again.
|BTW, this is not me. He's much handsomer.|
One day, I took the day off. As usual, the counters were piled high with dirty dishes and there was no way to fix the meal, so we went out to lunch. As we drove home, I offered her the deal: I’d wash the dishes happily but in trade I’d get to give her a spanking.
Not just the playful swatting we’d done recently, but the real deal.
She didn’t have to think long about it because she really hates doing dishes. She agreed. I went about the chore with a great deal more cheer mixed in with my task. Even with a dishwasher, it took me nearly three hours to get the kitchen in order.
She paid up later in the evening.
“This is for the twelve saucers and twelve cups,” I said as I went about my task.
“This is for the eighteen plates, five bowls and 3 glasses from our wedding shower back in the olden days.”
The list continued: “that huge set of plastic cups and plates you made me buy at the discount store; three remaining gold inlaid plates and two cups you got from your grandmother; the Tupperware set we had to buy at your friend’s party; the butter tubs we ate from when we came to the last of the dishes.
Then three skillets, eight sauce pans, five casserole dishes, the crock pot, wok, and blender. And the four thousand, eight hundred ninety-three pieces of silverware.
Plus I threw in cleaning the counters and the stove.
She giggled some at my recitation. She also said “ow” a lot. She clinched her jaw some, too, just like I always did.
I think we were both satisfied at the end of the evening. And neither of us was mad or tense afterwards, although she was a little tender.
We’ve repeated this occasionally and guess what? She gets the dishes done much more regularly now. In fact, she’s doing them now as I write this.
I will add that dirty dishes are no longer an issue at all. They just get done.
It's a problem because now I have to come up with new reasons to spank :)