There we were, Michael and I and the kids, all sitting in the living room, discussing our plan of action for the afternoon. I guess I talked over him and he commanded "Quiet!" I zipped my lips, having been put in my place. And I kept them zipped. He didn't seem to understand why I was upset, but he did end up apologizing.
Later on, he snapped at me again. The kids were ready for bed and he said to wait a couple of minutes and then we'd go upstairs. So, the kids and I sat in the living room and waited. After several minutes I asked him if he was ready to go up yet. He responded that he was and that he had said so. I tried to tell him that I hadn't heard him, but he was already getting up and saying that he didn't realize that everyone was waiting on him. Huh??? He was obviously upset/annoyed/whatever, and it was certainly directed at me. He headed upstairs, his attitude palpable. I really didn't want to go up at that point, but I knew the kids would be upset if I didn't.
I'm sitting on the couch now, typing this on my phone. He's on the computer downloading something. I know he's going to come over and want me to snuggle with him soon. In fact, here he is now.
You know, most of our day was really nice. But, now I have a headache and just feel kind of sad. * sigh*
Michael was able to be home yesterday to see our company off. The two incidents I shared occurred after they’d left. After the first one I went for a drive. There were errands that needed to be taken care of, and so I left Michael and the kids at home to work on some stuff around the house and I took off on my own. It ended up being a good thing. It was a nice day, so I put the windows down and turned the radio up. My hair was a mess, but I decided I didn’t really care. By the time I got home I was feeling much better and Michael was quick to check on me to make sure I was okay.
That evening, Michael made dinner (tacos, yummy!) and we sat down with the kids to watch a movie. It had been a nice day overall. And then, out of nowhere or at least so it seemed to me, he got all indignant. It was like a slap in the face. Both incidents were more about his attitude, his tone, than what he actually said. And it was about how it made me feel.
He’d seen me sitting on the couch typing away on my phone. When he came over I held it out to him, not sure if I really wanted him to read what I’d written. He took my phone and read, but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he turned to me and apologized. I looked at him for a minute and then said “You’re not the only one in this relationship who needs to be shown respect you know.” I didn’t say it with an attitude. I didn’t raise my voice. I said it softly, but firmly. He looked pained and said that he did know that and that he was sorry. I said “You know I don’t do doormat.” I smiled and he chuckled and said something to the effect that he was well aware of that.
I would’ve thought that would’ve been that. But, I just couldn’t shake it off fully, even though that’s what I wanted to do. We snuggled, watching a tv show, but I felt tense and still had a headache. Michael tried to make me feel better; he rubbed my shoulders for me. And it did help, but just so much. Finally, I let out a deep sigh and just looked at him. He knew what I needed. I did too, but I didn’t want to need it. He asked me and I tried to tell him no. But he knew better. He said “You don’t want to need it, but you do, don’t you?” Frustrated I whined something about it not being fair, it was his fault and why should I end up being spanked, he should be the one getting spanked! That cute and annoying smirk of his appeared and I knew my fate was sealed. Oh, that’s not to say that I didn’t continue to try and get out of it. But his mind was made up.
It wasn’t a punishment or even maintenance; it was more of a stress relief kind of a spanking, or maybe it was a reconnect. Actually, I don't really know what to call it and does it really need a name anyway? The problem was, he didn’t really warm me up and so it felt to me more like I’d done something wrong and that’s why I was over his knee. I had a really hard time holding still. I kicked my feet up and even reached my hand back once. That earned me a couple of sharp smacks to my thighs and a lecture on safety. When he let me up I was angry. I wouldn’t look at him and I had my arms folded across my chest. He asked what that was all about, from my struggle to maintain my position to being angry. And so I told him how I was feeling and I said that I knew he’d read posts about other ladies getting angry sometimes too. He said that he had and that from what he recalled it seemed the best course of action was to spank through it. Hmmph! Why had I mentioned those blog posts? I was just trying to point out that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way at some point. I wasn’t trying to tell him that I needed to be spanked more!
This time, he had me lay on the foot of the bed and he got out the flogger. He started using it on my bottom and thighs and back. It felt wonderful. It helped me to calm down and it wasn’t long before the anger melted away. He ended things with a several more smacks to my bottom with the wooden spoon, ones I would remember long after the effect of the flogger had dissipated. Then we cuddled and kissed and headed off to dreamland together.
This was my third spanking this week! Well, the first one was supposed to be Saturday night, but technically it was Sunday morning since it was after midnight. Then there was the one Tuesday night. And then last night. It’s unusual for Michael to be home that much during the week, much less for me to be spanked every time he's home. Wasn’t I just complaining about his lack of consistency? Suddenly that seems like a distant memory.