The Importance of Communication: Coming Together
Note: This is part 2, a continuation of what I started sharing here. So, while you are certainly free to read this post without having read my previous post, just know that you won’t have the full story. ; )
When we went up to bed he tried to talk to me about the things that I’d not been following through with and about my sometimes disrespectful attitude the week before. I wasn’t really hearing him. My mind was still on the previous evening and how things had, or hadn’t, panned out. I gave him a look and told him that if he hoped I was listening, it wasn’t the case. As you can imagine, he wasn’t terribly pleased with that and he asked me if he needed to have me naked and on the floor in front of him for me to be able to hear what he was saying. That felt like a slap in the face and I just looked away. He took a couple of minutes to think about things and then got up and helped me up. He sat on the edge of the bed and had me kneel before him. I was still in my pjs. He tried talking with me again, but it didn’t go so well. I was upset and needed to talk about the night before, not be lectured. I withdrew emotionally and sat cross legged on the floor, my head in my hands. I didn’t know what to do or say at that point and I was giving him time to think about how he wanted to proceed. After a couple of minutes, he helped me up, moved over on the bed and had me sit with him. He was ready to talk about the night before.
I explained to him how I’d been anxious and on edge and how it made me feel when he hadn’t even said anything to me about it. I told him that when I went downstairs I’d felt that I’d rather not get any sleep down there than go back up to bed. He was hurt and had suspected that I’d left our bedroom because he hadn’t followed through. I don’t think he had understood how much it had hurt me that he hadn’t said anything or acknowledged it in any way. I think he understands now or at least is aware of how it affects me, even if he doesn’t really understand why. He apologized, several times actually. And he said that it didn’t feel right to him to spank me at that point. He kissed me and then started to get ready for bed, setting his alarm, etc. Meanwhile, I was now wide awake and the emotions were swirling. In talking about everything those emotions had come to the surface and it felt like I was standing on the edge of an emotional cliff and he’d just left me there, effectively abandoning me emotionally. How was I going to now just lie down and snuggle and go to sleep? Ugh.
I grabbed my pillow and slunk onto the floor, leaning back against the bed and hugging my pillow tight. Momentarily, Michael was lying on the bed with his head hanging off the side asking me what I was doing down there. I said that I was sitting. He said that he could see that, but wanted to know why. I took in a deep breath and let it out. I didn’t know what to say, how to answer him. It took me a couple of minutes to gather my thoughts and then I dove in. I told him that I was glad that we’d talked about the night before and that I’d appreciated his apology. I said that I also understood that he was upset with himself and felt that he’d let me down and therefore felt that he shouldn’t follow through with spanking me. But I explained that to me it felt like at that point he withdrew and I was left to fend for myself with the emotions that he’d stirred up. I said that I didn’t know how to get past those emotions without his help. I told him that I felt like I was dangling from the edge of an emotional cliff and that he’d just left me there. I said that as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t just relax, come snuggle and fall asleep at that point, and so if he wanted to go to sleep I would be happy to give him a hug and kiss and say goodnight. I also said that I was trying to decide what to say that was short and sweet, but didn’t really say much of anything in a blog post entitled Hiatus.
He needed a couple of minutes to digest what I'd said and think it through. I told him that as I saw it, he had a couple of options. I said that if he said goodnight and went to sleep and left me there on the floor that the walls that I’d built the night before would still be in place and the distance between us would remain. I conceded that if he decided to spank me that it might bring us together, might break through those walls, but I said that I couldn't guarantee it. I just wasn’t really sure how I would react. I said that I felt bad for the position that he found himself in, that I was putting him in, he was truly between a rock and a hard place.
He mulled this over and then decided on a course of action. He turned the volume up on the television, turned a light on, and got out the wooden spoon. He helped me up and disrobed me. He sat on the bed and made me look at him. He told me that this wasn’t about punishment or even maintenance. He felt we needed to reconnect, and that’s why he was going to spank me. He said that he wasn't going to leave me on the edge of an emotional cliff, that he was there to rescue me. Then he said that I was going to do something for him. He told me to go get my teal lacy bra. I hesitated for a moment and probably gave him a funny look. I was surprised by his request. After he repeated himself I went and got it and brought it to him. He put it on me, admiring the way it looked, or I looked in it. He smiled and helped me into position, over his knee, and he started to spank with his hand. He started off slow but steady, sometimes rubbing a bit in between smacks. As the spanking built in intensity he gave me a few breaks and rubbed my back, talking to me, reassuring me, and then the spanking would resume. It wasn’t that long of a spanking and it wasn’t too harsh either. He never did use the wooden spoon, just his hand. There were a couple of smacks on my thighs when I tried to block him with my legs and when I’d try to squirm away, he’d move me right back into position.
When he was done spanking me he some other ideas of how we could reconnect. He held me in position and moved his hand between my legs. He rubbed relentlessly as I squirmed and tried not to make too much noise. When he was satisfied that I’d been satisfied he got up and I collapsed on the bed. He took my bra off and then he was rolling me over, his mouth exploring my wetness while his hands pinched and pulled my nipples. It happened so quickly it took my breath away. Then his mouth was on mine, kissing me deeply as his hands roamed my body. Then it was my turn to pleasure him, but he rarely lets me finish the job, and that night was no exception. He was ready to move on to other endeavors and all at once he was in me, his hands on my nipples again, pinching and pulling. It didn’t take long for the sensations to overwhelm me, but he was taking his time, letting me ride the waves until he too was ready for release.
Now I was ready to snuggle and fall asleep. But first I wanted Michael to talk to me, just for a minute. I wanted to hear him say that I was his, that I belong to him, that he owns me. He took the opportunity to also say that he expects a much more respectful attitude from me this week and that he wants me drinking water. He said that he wasn’t going to address the other things at that point because he knew I had a very busy week ahead of me. And he didn’t want me to end up feeling overwhelmed. I smiled and thanked him and said that I understood. And then he asked me who I belonged to and I said “You, Sir.” He smiled and pulled me close and soon enough we were both sound asleep, the distance between us gone, reconnected and at peace with one another.