I found this in my draft folder this morning. Oddly enough I was going to write about this very issue, but from a different place, where I am now. This was written last February. It’s interesting how we change, how our dynamic shifts and evolves, isn’t it? I don’t remember what he had done, what I had done. I do remember I got spanked at the end. Well duh!
I’m not having a good morning, and it seems he perfect time to write the post I’ve had rattling in my head since I read this by Saoirse: “He’s Wrong! Very, very wrong!” Her post actually turned into a 3 part series. I’ll also refer you to my own version from several years ago: “When DD is Not Fair“.
I’m angry. I’m hurt. And I’m at work early sitting on sore bottom. If you’ve read Saoirise’s posts, or mine, you’ll already realize that he real question is not what he did or I did, but how do I get myself from here:
I don’t want to be fighting with my husband. The issue has spanned several days and he told me to be home at 5:15 and there would be a punishment. I texted him back that he apparently forgot I had a date with my future daughter-in-law and her girlfriend and would not be home until later. He went out, and when I got home I went to bed. Then I received a text that said: “This argument is over tomorrow.” I did not answer. I was too angry. He texted me back: “I know you are there–” He’s smart like that. I texted back: “What?” Did I mention how angry I was? Then I figured I’d best say something more, so I added: “I am in bed going to sleep.” Then came, “Ok. Good night. I love you.” I did not answer.
I was up early this morning and hoped to sneak out early to work. Not to avoid a spanking because he never does anything first thing in the morning, but rather because I was angry, and wanted to simply be gone, remove myself. I had hoped to wrap my head around being punished when I did not deserve it before this evening. I knew e was not changing his mind and I was done arguing my point. He surprised me by waking very early and caught be dressed for work, coat on….
….and he insisted I take my coat off and come back into the bedroom, and he pulled up my dress, down my panties, and I was thoroughly spanked before work. Yes, I was indeed mad. I usually am when I am punished these days. (I really don’t do much to be truly repentant about at this point in our lives…at least not from my perspective). And yeah, he was truly sorry I was mad, and sorry he felt he had to spank, but not in the least sorry to spank. He sees it as his role, his prerogative, his responsibility and he works hard to the very best of his ability to never shirk his duties in our marriage!
So what has changed? I think mostly it’s that we have shifted into a place where the DD is his to have and to hold, as am I. He decides, he sometimes spanks, he forgives, and I am free to do and feel whatever it is I need to do and feel. The two may not always have much to do with each other and the big change is, that it is mostly OK with me. I have fought this for years. I have felt it was always my role to submit, but in my heart, if I was unjustifiably punished, I felt wronged in a way that always needed resolution before we could move on. It was a big deal emotionally. Now…eh, not so much. I still get mad. I still know when he’s wrong. And if anything I argue more and even while going to him and laying myself over his lap. Why? Because (unless the moment is causing me true emotional trauma) the worst that can be damaged is my bottom. I’ve let go in a new way. The man won’t beat me to death, and in fact he doesn’t beat me. He spanks me with a hair brush or strap, which hurts a heck of a lot, and which upon occasion might even make me cry…but then I can be mad for a while, and then it’s over. The fight is over. The discord is over. It might be we have come to some agreement (funny how a spanking can open up the blood flow to the brain and give a gal a new perspective). Or it might be I am as sure as I was pre-paddling that
he’s an idiot that I am right and he is wrong. I’ll be mad for a little while and then I will forgive him his deranged manly ideas, and we simply move on. He’s changed too. He doesn’t always need me to agree with him or to think he was right. After all, he knows he was right. He is always right. He’s a man. My man. He’s genetically programmed and happens to be an infuriatingly dominate and bossy sort and he mostly thinks he’s always right. And I married him and I love him, and that feature comes with this particular model. And yes, I admit it. I knew this about him going in.
Just this weekend we had one of those kind of spankings. A stupid argument, his hurt feelings, and a decision to spank me after dining at the pub with our son, which he told me on the way there so I could savor it. I ordered a martini as soon as we got there. He was wrong. He had said something really
dumb wrong which he admitted to and apologized for, which was followed by a “But you shouldn’t have…” Yeah, so why do I get spanked while he apologizes? Because that’s the way we do things. Sigh…I asked for this. I need to be spanked even though I don’t want to be. I might be genetically programmed for that? I sometimes hate it but I accept I need it. So once again, he came into the bedroom when I was in my jammies and got out that damn ebony hairbrush. I looked at him with a well composed and moderately challenging glare and asked “You’re kidding me right?” I tried to stare him down, and I find it’s important to always look surprised…to act like he’s out of his mind. Maybe because once in a blue moon it works, and just for my own self respect?
However, I was surprised he picked that hairbrush. The issue was small to my way of thinking and that’s some serious implement. We don’t always agree on what’s a small issue either . I braced myself and went to him when he sat and told me to come. I went obediently if not quietly over his lap. I was prepared for the worst, but he started spanking over my pajamas (which is unusual) and hard-ish, but not as hard as he might have. There were none of the usual “You know why you’re here, right?” The pajamas came down but after maybe 2 minutes he stopped spanking. He just held me there. I wondered what point he was making? Submission? He asked “Are you still mad?” I took a quick mental assessment and realized, no, I was not mad. Not at him, not even at the spanking. I was right, but that had little to do with being over his lap. I told him honestly, “No, I am not mad.” There was no edge to my voice. I wasn’t mad. I was sorry I was getting spanked, but not mad. He resumed spanking just hard enough create that burn, and then he just stopped.
Grant: “OK, you’re done.”
Sara: “Ok. ……… Um…what is this?”
Grant: “Do you need more? If the spanking wasn’t enough…”
Sara: “NO! It was more than enough!” He was still holding me down, but had released his grip. I slipped off his lap quickly while I still could. “I’m just not sure what that spanking was about. Were you just making sure I would submit ?”
Grant: “Of course not. I know you will submit. It was about making sure you weren’t still angry and that we could have a peaceful evening.”
Grant: “I love you.” He pulled me to him.
Sara: “I love you too.”
It turned out to be a pretty good weekend!