Whew, lot’s going on here; I will try to be concise. Recently we went out of town, and the lexan paddle that I dutifully packed in the lid of the suitcase somehow didn’t make it home with us. There was no need to use it on the trip, so my best guess is that it fell out in the hotel when we were packing up. As bringing it along on trips is entirely my responsibility, I realized I would probably be in trouble for its disappearance. When I told Bruce what had happened he said I would have to order another one. Since this expense could have been avoided he said I was to give him the receipt when it arrived, and I would receive two strikes per dollar spent; this would simultaneously serve as a punishment for wasting money, and an emphatic reminder of why we own such implements in the first place. I set out to reorder what we had lost, but it was no longer available. Again I told Bruce, and he said I would have to find another one that was comparable or “better.” Not only were all of the remaining selections “better,” but the most preferable options were out of stock. In the end I had no choice but to order a thicker, wider, and much longer version of a paddle that was already very difficult for me to take :(
Since the sum of the receipt left me with a more than substantial tab, Bruce reassured me that we would split the punishment into two different sittings. Not knowing what to expect, I had a pretty rough time of it on the first night. I basically fell apart immediately; I did manage to basically hold still, but I begged and cried worse than ever, and truly lost all composure. In the aftermath Bruce held me, but I felt strangely sad about the way I had reacted. He realized I had been overwhelmed by the change in severity and wasn’t disappointed or frustrated, but it didn’t matter… in losing composure I had failed to give him the gift of my submission, defeating the purpose of being spanked in the first place.
So last night I received the second half of the punishment/reminder. All day I focused on my resolve to be as still and compliant as possible… given my initial reaction to the increased intensity, I wanted to show my submission through my stillness and quiet. While I got into position I told him that I love him, and he put his arm around my waist and said “Baby I love you too; that’s why we’re doing this.” When the warm-up ended I braced myself… as expected, even the first strike was breathtaking. As the spanking continued I fought hard to hold still, and in an effort to stay quiet I repeatedly held my breath. When it was all over he hugged me, and I was delighted to note that he was touched by my changed response. But had I truly submitted? We made love and settled into bed, but instead of drifting off to sleep, my mind whirled. I reached for my iPad on the nightstand, and sought clarity from Webster’s Dictionary. Two definitions provided food for thought:
Hmm. In light of these definitions, my first thought was that true submission and surrender requires complete, continual acceptance, both physically and emotionally. And yet something about this line of thinking felt fuzzy. In struggling to process, I articulated this to Bruce. Interestingly, he only agreed in part: yes, to achieve total acceptance is beautiful on occasion, “But part of this whole idea is that for me to be in control you choose to accept my control in spite of the way you feel. It wouldn’t be real submission if you already felt like giving in.” Okay, yeah, that was a really valid point... I’m finding that the more familiar I get with the concept of submission, the more complex it becomes! But for all of its confusion and frustration it has brought even more freedom and reconciliation. Upsetting? Yeah. But worth it? Definitely.