Bridesmaid Dresses Can Get You Spanked

It's a fact. Bridesmaid dresses can get you spanked.


Not just any dress, mind. Not just any BRIDESMAID dress, note. It has to be a certain kind. On a certain kind of girl.

Namely, the one that doesn't fit, on a hugely obsessive compulsive girl. Works best on one that has grown up with a family that struggles with weight issues and a mother than binges, then loses 175 pounds through diet(the 400-800 calorie a day kind), bulimia, over-exercise, etc. Especially if that girl is so paranoid about her weight that she remembers being a child and chewing up cookies and spitting them out with her mom, so they got the taste, but not the fat.

Let me be clear: according to Steven, and the Wii Fit, and the Rush Fitness center, I'm not overweight. I'm normal, and for the Rush's system, I'm even fit. But, that's not at all what I see when I look in a mirror. I see fat, hanging out over my pants, my underwear, back-fat draping out over the bra. When I look down, I imagine I can't see my toes.

We had a little experiment one day(not that it started out that way) that showed I usually see my size as about 4-6 sizes bigger than I am. (Long story, not gonna go there, I don't think).

So, back to the bridesmaid dresses. Actually, pause a second; I haven't been posting our ongoing struggle with my eating habits, because they're kind of embarrassing for me. Recently, though, we decided we were going to take a beach trip--Steven asked me to wear a bikini. That flipped my on switch. Hours and hours at the gym, very little to eat, throwing up, laxatives, enemas, the whole nine yards. I don't think it was until this point he realized just how far my issues went. He started keeping tabs on me.

Naturally, I got spanked every time any of these came to light. He started asking me what I'd eaten over the course of a day. It was very trying for me, to say the least.

NOW, back to the bridesmaid dress, with all that history. I'm a friend of mine's bridesmaid. She ordered me  a dress. She ordered her other bridesmaid a dress twice that size. Long story short, I didn't fit in mine, the other girl did, and they have to call and order me a size bigger. I wrote my measurements on my wrist, and I stared at them compulsively throughout the day, until I saw them on the back on my eyelids.


The sad part about what I'm about to tell you--it wasn't my weight that wouldn't let me zip this dress. It was my boobs...they aren't small, and they just would NOT cram into that thing.

BUT...unfortunately, it flicked the same switch. I had been doing a bit better....as soon as I left my friend, I threw up the lunch she'd fed us. I bought some more laxatives. I (am mortified to tell you) that I used an enema. I spent my lunch break at work looking for ipecac. (It's pretty much been discontinued). I threw up some more. I ate nothing else.

And, then, after work, I went home. (Downing another laxative on the way...) Steven took one look at me, and his face tightened. "Spill." I begged to be held first, which he did. And, I told him. I even told him I'd lied the day before when I said I didn't know why I got nauseous after working out, that really, I knew it was because I'd been working out to the throw up part and beyond.

He was livid. I don't know if he was that angry because he thought we'd kicked this, or just over the danger aspect of it. I'd done a couple other, smaller things that I got spanked for, but the one that he really chewed was the weight loss techniques. He looked them up online, showing how each was harmful to the body. He sent me into the kitchen to find something to eat. I managed an oatmeal packet.

Then, he pulled me over to him and dropped my pants. I pleaded to at least start over underwear(not that that ever happens). He  just shook his head and bent me over one leg, so I was resting on the bed. I used this opportunity to bury my head in a pillow and cry before we even really got started.

Once he did, though...OUCH. And, though it had never happened before, I found myself totally pinned. My legs were locked under his, and my free hand was held tightly against my back. And the spanking went on. I asked how much longer, how many...

"Grace, I will go until I'm sure not an inkling of maybe once hoping to think about doing something like ANY of these things will ever again cross your mind. And, if they should, your butt will twinge just for the thought crossing your mind!" And I cried.

And, we moved to a chair so I could go over his knee--a least favorite of mine, as it leaves the upper thighs so clearly in view and reach. I swear..that spanking went on forever.

And I cried.

Finally, when it was over, he pulled me up into his lap. "Do you understand?" he asked me, his face earnest. "Do you understand how hurtful this is? To you? To your body? To us?"

"I don't understand how it hurts you!" I cried harder. "It's making me skinny for you!" He pulled up my shirt and ran his hand over my belly. He told me I was skinny, that I was beautiful, and that it hurt him to think that I thought I wasn't good enough for anything, for him.

I just kept on crying. I tell you, if there was ever a risk of flooding at my house--it was only because I caused it.

I told him about the dress...I hadn't at first, because I knew he'd watch my eating and weight closer if I did. He laughed--"Babe...what was the bust size in that dress?"

"Too small!" I wailed.

 He held me...I needed a lot of holding last night. A lot. And he was there for every part of it.

Not gonna lie. I'm on a pretty short leash with exercise, eating, and weight loss in general. He's definitely keeping an eye on it; like I told him last night--I don't necessarily say, "Ok, I'm going to lose weight and it's going to work like this," and so on.

Mostly, I get upset about my weight, panic, and do everything all at once.

And, yesterday--

It was a bridesmaid dress. Cuz those things are dangerous.

They can get you spanked.