June 14, 2012

He's stepping it up...

 

Do you sense the hesitation? Good. Because as much as it comes as a surprise to me, I feel it. Acutely. And like I said, I'm shocked. This is what I wanted, right. Yes, it was. And I still do. I'm not saying I don't want this. I do. Let me just relate what's happened over the past week or so. It's a lot, so this one may be pretty long. 
It's no secret that we hit a bit of a rough patch a few weeks ago. But honestly, I think we've weathered it pretty well. He's made the rules and I've been trying to follow them. I really was. One of our rules is that I carry pepper spray with me when I'm out alone. Well, it's big and clunky and I have a cute little purse. It just doesn't work well. And I totally didn't feel unsafe going back and forth to work without it, so I kept forgetting it. He reminded me, and told me I was being punished for it. You would think I would take it the next night, right? 

 

Yeah, I know. Dumb move. So the next night when he puts it on top of my purse so I can't miss it, you would think I would graciously just put it in the purse and go on, right. See above picture. I decided instead to raise a ruckus about it. Why, you ask? I have no idea. But I did. Well, by this point it was pretty obvious that I was going to be in some trouble. And even I had to admit it was well-earned. 
 So Saturday night, he decides to spank me and take care of it. I appreciate his effort and that he was making an attempt to follow through. But it wasn't enough. It was barely stinging. And he stopped. And it left me in a funk. And so conflicted within myself. It was a miserable feeling. On the one hand, I felt as though I should tell him. But on the other, I didn't want to come across as critical or bossy. Plus I was just plain embarrassed to say I needed more. I honestly have the hardest time saying the word spank. Even typing it is somewhat uncomfortable. It's another mystery of my life. 
I just went deeper and deeper into this funk and bless him, he didn't know what to do about it anymore than I did. He finally, out of frustration and desperation said he was going to redo it. I don't what it was in the moment. I'm not entirely sure what triggered it, but I got scared. Really and truly scared. For the first time in a long time. I don't know if it was his tone, or if it was because he was frustrated and I sensed a lack of control, or if it was something else entirely. In an effort to not throw him under the bus, I probably would have reacted much worse had the tables been turned. And he had already made several attempts to get me to open up.
I immediately started crying and sobbing and shaking. I was a mess. It took him all of about three seconds to figure out that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. He flipped in that moment back to the most calm, serene, and tender man I've ever met. He pulled me to him, held me and just kept telling me everything was okay and that I was safe. And after a few minutes, maybe less, I started to calm down. My world was right there in his arms. He held me until I went to sleep and I woke up nuzzled right next to him. 
He did end up redoing the spanking the next day, and it was definitely the right decision on his part. I've felt so much better and closer to him since then. We've had a lot of good conversation since then as well. Which brings me to the next section of this little entry. BUT, I think I'll save that for tomorrow. We're heading to bed soon and have a busy day tomorrow, so I need my rest! 

 

 


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