Recently, I got in trouble.
I broke a rule my husband is very, very serious about enforcing. However, I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't pay attention to what I should have, and in my distraction, I missed a major detail that would've prevented my error. This doesn't matter. If I'd been paying attention as he's asked me to, I wouldn't have made this mistake.
When I realized my mistake, my stomach dropped. I wondered if I had, indeed, made the mistake I'd been specifically told not to make. I didn't want to be punished unnecessarily -- not just because I dislike being punished, but because I know he doesn't like punishing me, either. Was it an honest mistake? I won't be punished for an honest mistake.
So I took the time to go back and check. And there, right in front of me, was the notice I missed that would've prevented my error. There was no question. I was in trouble. I had disobeyed him again.
I went throughout the day pretty down. I'd tried so hard to do what I was supposed to. I'd kept my patience in check, gone to the gym, completed every single one of my tasks I'd been asked to do. I e-mailed a check-in with him, cleaned the house, and treated my kids with patience. I was attentive to their needs, conscious of my time online and on my phone, and when I went to pick him up, I was careful to put my phone away, and drive the speed limit.
I'd accepted the fact that I was to be punished, and that it would be bad. I knew I deserved it. But I was angry with myself for having failed yet again.
I picked up Jason with a smile on my face, and he smiled back. He still makes my heart pound. He is so handsome, and I love the way his blue eyes smile at me. When he puts his arm around me, or smiles at me, I feel shy and girly. My heartbeat accelerates when he calls me on the phone and I hear his voice. I smile to myself when I get a text message and his name pops up. In short, I positively adore him.
This is why I hate having to confess to him. I wanted it over as soon as possible. I didn't want to see that smile fade from his face. I didn't want to hear his voice grow stern, and I cringed to hear him say a word of rebuke. Before I told him, I repeated in my mind all the sweet, encouraging, affirming things he's said to me over the past few months.
"I'm so proud of how far you've come."
"This hasn't been easy, but there is no question this lifestyle works for you. I can see how much things have changed."
"You need me to do this for you."
"I'm going to give you a spanking, because I love you."
"You will learn not to do this, and I'm going to teach you."
"When you submit to me, I feel that you love me."
So I was calmer by the time I picked him up, but still riddled with guilt. I expected we'd have a bit of small talk, but to my surprise, within seconds of settling into the car, he began going down my list of rules.
The one I'd broken was the very first one. He paused in his list, and said, "Wait. Did you just say you did break that rule?"
My stomach dropped. Time to get it over with.
Out it came, the whole story, no details spared. That I'd broken a rule, and should've been paying attention, that it wasn't on purpose but I knew I was culpable because I went back and checked.
He smiled at me. His face lit up the way it does when he's proud of me.
"You went back and checked?"
I nodded. "Yes. I didn't want to be punished for no reason, and I didn't want you to have to punish me."
"But sweetie, don't you see how fantastic that is? It shows you're changing. You're conscious of what you're doing. I'm so proud of you."
I felt the warm and fuzzies.
"Yes. In fact, I think you need more of a hug than a spanking."
Now, readers, you might think I'm crazy, but I was fairly riddled with guilt. Consumed with it. And as much as I was extremely grateful he was not angry with me, I didn't want him to let it slide, either.
"But I feel guilty, honey," I said. "I do want a hug. But I also think I need a spanking." I cringed saying that. I love it when he spanks me, but I do hate being punished.
"Oh, you will get a spanking," he promised. "But I don't want you afraid, thinking it will be terrible. You do need a spanking, but it's not going to be as bad as it could've been."
We talked some more, and I felt so much better. Later in the evening, he hugged me and whispered, "Don't worry. I haven't forgotten about you. We will have time later, and then we'll get this over with."
How much do I love him?
Finally, the time came. He got out the paddle and instructed me to come over to him. I had that familiar knot of guilt on my chest, and I was looking forward to letting that go, and having the emotional release of being punished and forgiven. He told me to lie over his lap, and lectured, but just a bit.
He paddled me. It wasn't an easy spanking, but it was far from harsh. After several dozen good swats with the paddle, he put it down and massaged me, talking gently and calmly. I waited for the next round.
But he said he was done.
For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt unsettled, like I hadn't gotten enough. I'd beaten myself up all day, and he was done, but I wasn't. I still felt guilty. I still wanted that emotional release. I felt a lump in my throat, and I wanted that lump to dissolve, and I wasn't there.
I told him all this.
"No," he said softly. "We're not going there. It's up to me how and when you're punished, and I'm telling you now, you don't deserve any more than you just got. You've done so well. You beat yourself up too much. I am so proud of the progress you've made, that I won't punish you harshly for this."
I saw his point, and nodded. Now the lump began to dissolve, and I cried, though I wasn't weeping. Just softly crying, with my head on his chest, while he stroked my hair and spoke quietly to me.
He talked about how proud he was. He talked about all the improvements I've made, how happy he is with how much I trust him. As he spoke, I felt that residual pent-up frustration dissolving, and I felt happy in his arms.
"Please don't let me go yet," I whispered.
"No, of course not," he replied. "I will hold you as long as you need. I know you need this right now."
I just soaked him up. Just let myself feel his strength, and his calm. It felt so nice.
"You trust me?" he asked quietly. I nodded. Yes. I really and truly did. He spanks me soundly when I need it, no question. He doesn't let me get away with the slightest attitude, or smart comment, or heedless mistake. But he is also merciful, and kind. He encourages me. He teaches me with gentle but honest instruction, encouraging me to be good, and kind, and patient, as he is. Neither of us is perfect. But I love that he is willing to patiently teach me to be a better person.
"I do," I said.
"You're not going to go on about how I didn't do this the right way, or get all upset because I didn't spank you more?"
I shook my head. "No, I won't," I said. I love him. I trust him. I felt the calm peace of having submitted myself to him.
"I'm so proud of you," he said. "I needed to see that you trusted me."
"Go get my belt."
I was shocked. "What did you say?" I asked.
"I said, go get my belt."
A bit subdued and little apprehensive, I obeyed. I stood, shuffled over to where his belt lay, and picked it up. I returned to him, and handed him his belt.
"You like the sound of that jingle, don't you?" he asked with a smile.
I nodded. "Yes, sir," I whispered. Although the sound of his belt can also make me nervous, I have mixed emotions about it. It makes me feel like I belong to him. That I'm his. There's an intimacy in being spanked with his belt that is like nothing else. He wears it on his waist. It's his, and so am I. It's also an implement that can be extremely harsh, so the way he spanks me with it helps me trust him even more.
"Over my lap, please," he instructed, as he wrapped his belt around his hand, leaving a strap.
I obeyed, and mixed feelings washed over me. A bit of apprehension that I was going to be spanked for round two. But eagerness to feel completely submitted to him, completely forgiven.
"I want you to know that I heard you," he said, "And I want you to feel better about this. But I needed to see that you trusted me first."
"Yes, sir," I whispered.
He strapped me. It was pretty hard, though tolerable, but it was exactly, exactly what I needed. I felt myself relaxing. I felt forgiven, and cleansed, and submitted to him.
He put his belt down, and drew me into him.
"All better now, baby girl?" he asked quietly. "Do you have that feeling you need?"
I smiled, and nodded, and wrapped my arms around his waist.
He put his hands on my chin and lifted my face, kissing me. One thing led to another. We made love, and it was beautiful.
As he held me after, he laughed.
"Two spankings and hot sex," he chuckled. "I hope you're satisfied, girl, cuz that's about as much as I have to give you."
I laughed softly, my head tucked under his chin, as he wrapped his arms around me.
What more could I ask for? I know this post is gushy. I know some readers dislike the gushy, but I have to share the good with the bad, and this moment was so good.
I recently posted about the high highs, and low lows. Dear readers, moments like this are the highs. There is really and truly nothing like it.
"It was perfect," I said. "You're so good to me, and I love you. Thank you."
To my dear husband -- I know you'll read this.
I trust you. Thank you for teaching me to trust you.