Last night was peaceful and relaxed; we had a nice family dinner, our older children willingly shared the details of their day with us, our three-year old twins played with the dogs while laughing happily - and in the middle of all this magic our oldest son, who is away at college, actually called his family … Evening Perfection.
Later, after reading bedtime stories to my twins, I decided that a bubble bath was in order. P was in his office working and the house was quiet and calm – the evening had made me reflective and the quiet stillness in the house lent itself to contemplation and relaxation. I was well inside myself when I became aware that P had joined me in the bubbles. Without speaking a word he gently washed my hair and then pulled me back so I was resting against his chest; we sat like that for a long, long time …
Finally, when we had exhausted all of the hot water, he got out of the tub and offered his hand to help me do the same – then he wrapped me in a towel and carried me to our bed … a dreamy and romantic moment that was the ultimate capstone to the evening that had been.
I didn’t notice the hairbrush until it was in his hand … and this put an abrupt end to my silent reverie.
I wanted the spanking, desperately, but I was afraid too. Not of the brush and the pain, that isn’t how masochism works; I was afraid that P would be unable to please me (hurt me enough) and that my disappointment would show, this causing him immeasurable emotional torment and undoing months of healing …
When I started to say, “just make love to me, you don’t have to hurt me – I want you even without the pain,” he held up his hand to silence me – a first. And I actually kept myself from speaking further - another first.
What followed was the hardest spanking he has ever given me. He ignored my cries, my pleas, and even my tears. And when it was over, he held me for several long minutes – gently stroking my hair and whispering how much he loves me … and then he took me - without even stopping to consider that I might not want him inside of me.
This morning it all seems like a dream, like it happened to someone else. But I’m happy and calm so I know I must have been there …
We fell asleep without talking, and this morning was hectic so I didn’t have the chance to say anything but, “Thank you for last night.” This got me a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and a gentle pat to my very tender bottom as he walked out the door for work …
But knowing P as I do, knowing who he is and where he’s from, I also know that last night couldn’t have been easy for him. And through my happiness I find myself very concerned with his emotional state of being as he goes about the business of the morning while remembering the events of last night …
I don’t want to change him. I don’t want him ever to be something or someone he is not …
But last night awakened my awareness of who I am and what I need …
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