@cynicaldom told me to start washing a load of towels. I did, but I realized the dryer had clothing left in it that included some of his clothing. Shit. I have a rule that says I canāt leave clothing in the dryer. I bring it to the living room and fold it just a few feet from him. He doesnāt say anything. I was surprised he didnāt notice. I knew he had been struggling with depression. Heās always a bit less aware or focused when heās depressed. I wish I would have been more understanding, but instead,Ā I was childish. I thought that if he wasnāt going to notice then why should I get in trouble over it? If he doesnāt notice then it doesnāt matter, right? Wrong, of course. Him not noticing doesnāt change what Iāve committed to. But in my grumpy mood, I convinced myself not to confess.Ā
I essentially stayed in that headspace for two weeks, off and on. āIt doesnāt matterā became my excuse to ignore a variety of little rules and details. There were at least half a dozen little rules broken. The dog food container got left open. I neglected to pick up a couple of glasses that were in the living room when I did the dishes (itās supposed to be all of them, every time). I made the executive decision to take something off my schedule when I should have gotten his approval. I didnāt finish myĀ last glass of water one night. Some of them were genuine mistakes. I found myself surprised at how quickly I lost focus on the details, how easily I overlooked things once I knew he wasnāt watching as closely as usual. A couple werenāt just accidents. A couple were tantrums because I was frustrated by his slight change in presence and convinced myself I was somehow justified, that him slipping a bit accidentally meant I could toss things aside on purpose.Ā
One day he noticed he hadnāt seen me eating much and asked me to tell him what all I had ate that day. I told him. It was one junk meal and a couple of snacks. He was asking me near bedtime. He made me eat a yogurt before going to bed, which I struggled with a little bit. I tried wrinkling my nose and sort of shrugging off the conversation. He stared at me until I responded to his questions, and kept on me when I said I would eat a yogurt but didnāt stand up to go get one. It occurred to me that I was giving into his will, I was submitting - in this way that isnāt a requirement or a routine. I was a little whiny about it, but I wasnāt about to consider sayingĀ āit doesnāt matter.ā or trying to truly reject his leadership in this way. The reason was, he was watching, and I would never disobey him when heās watchingā¦because I know he cares and wouldnāt let anything slide if he saw it in the sense of truly noticing it.Ā
I also started realizing how during my two-week tantrum, I kept doing all the big things. The dishes, my workouts, following all direct instructions. I do these things always because they are obvious, they canāt go unnoticed. I did the big, obvious chores because I knew Iād be in major hot water if I didnāt because heād see it. I never doubt that if he catches something heāll follow through, because I know he cares. So itās ridiculous that I could convince myself if he didnāt notice me acting out, silently and in the shadows, that meant it didnāt matter.Ā
Reality set in, and I knew it would be painful but I had to confess. I knew I would break his heart. I expected a pretty rough punishment. I expected serious disappointment. It took me a couple of days to find the courage, and it only came after he kept asking me what was up. He knew there was something I wasnāt saying and started trying to crack my shell. So I cracked, but we had been messing around and laughing moments before. So it came out in a tone of voice and in a setting that felt really inappropriate for how serious the situation was.Ā
I told him something likeĀ āIāve done a lot of stupid little things that you havenāt noticed. I know youāve been depressed and thatās why and Iām sorry.ā his eyes just seemed so blank. He was so quiet. I wanted to cry but I just wasnāt vulnerable enough to let it out. The air was just so tense and awkward. I eventually asked him what he was thinking and he saidĀ āI donāt knowā and I knew he really had no idea what to think or feel. It worried me. Iām not used to seeing him thrown off like that. I didnāt know how to feel about his reaction. It gave me anxiety. I told himĀ āI like youā which is ourĀ āI love youā. He said it back earnestly, nodding and looking me deep in the eyes. I know heās trying to reassure me but my anxiety ran away with me anyway. The next two days are awkward. Heās quiet and withdrawn, more than is typical when he is depressed, he seems lost more than anything. He never said anything to me other than he didnāt know how he felt about what I confessed. So I donāt know for sure what he is thinking or feeling. I just kind of push through, waiting on a response, trying not to let my thoughts run wild. The second morning, he wakes up after I do. He calls me into the bedroom to cuddle. This is typically common for us, but it hadnāt happened in a while so it feels like coming home. I massage him and we cuddle. Heās more talkative, he is clearly feeling better. Iām happy to feel more like us but Iām so confused about how we never talked through what happened. I hate not having clarity. I hate feeling like this huge mistake is stuck between us.Ā
We go on to have a good day that feels pretty normal. When he comes out of the bedroom holding his belt I donāt realize what his plans are at first. He motions for me to stand up and he takes off my leggings and panties. I step towards the arm of his chair, assuming heāll put me over it but he sits down instead. I realize the belt is folded really short. āOhā¦wait..ā I think as it starts to occur to me what is going on. We play in the living room once in a while, but always bent over the furniture, not over his knee. I donāt think heās ever used his belt for punishment. Itās new territory all around, but my gut knows where itās headed. As I go over his knee I bend my arm across my lower back, in place for him to hold it. Hoping proactive submission may help somehow. I imagine my expression would have been comical to watch because the first blow is shockingly painful. I donāt really have coherent thoughts for the first few blows, Iām just in shock at the intensity. He pauses and saysĀ āWhen you disobey me when I am depressed you are not being my partner.ā and I go from being unable to think about anything but the pain, to being unable to think of anything but those words. Iām instantly sobbing.
Ā In these two days of awkward distance since I confessed, and in the day or two of worrying before confessing, Iāve felt very guilty. Iāve felt ashamed of how childish, selfish and immature Iāve been. Iāve been disappointed in myself for not digging deeper to stay the course and act like I should until he got feeling better. But I hadnāt thought of it quite the way he put it. It hadnāt quite hit me that skirting the little rules, and the details of rules when I know he wouldnāt notice wasnāt just blowing off our D/s, it was rejecting him. I wasnāt partnering with him in our D/s, I wasnāt supporting him or his dominance over me. Once we had a question sent in for the podcast about whether or not we could go back to being vanilla now. He said no, and explained how D/s allows us to connect more intimately than we could before. Going back wouldnāt work because D/s is how we connect the deepest, it is the core of our intimacy. Thatās why blowing off the rules is rejecting him, and us. I sob through the spanking, and I think heās starting to let up as he almost pauses, but he just sighs and then tightens his grip on my arm that heās holding and lays into me even harder for a handful of more to finish it off. He lets me cry over his lap for a bit and then he tells me to stand. His voice isnāt soft yet, I know something is up, I know we arenāt done but I donāt know what that means.
He guides me towards a corner. Iāve never done cornertime before. Weāve talked about the possibility. Weāve talked about how for a typical mistake, it may make me run away with guilt too much, how I donāt usually need help with headspace in a punishment. We talked about how if I were to be angry when I should feel guilty, maybe corner time would be used. I knew this tool was in his toolbox, but heās never felt the need to use it. Iām not angry now, Iām already feeling guilty, this isnāt to get me into a new emotion. I know itās just to make me sit with the feeling I already have. With both of his hands on my shoulders, standing behind me he talks into my ear.Ā ā Youāre going to stand here for 20 minutes. Unless it gets to be too much, then you come sit on my lap.ā I canāt find my voice so I just nod.Ā
It wasnāt what I thought it would be, or how Iāve read it feels to other submissives. Itās hot and sticky to cry with your nose in a corner, your breath bouncing back on your face. Iāve read about how embarrassing it is, like the embarrassment is the real punishment. It didnāt really occur to me that my whipped ass was on display until I adjusted my arms across my back and my fingers felt the heat off my butt. Iāve heard people say the boringness of staring at a wall is the punishing part. I didnāt get bored. I was consumed with my thoughts. I just stood there crying for 20 minutes, thinking about how this was a huge mistake. Easily my biggest failing this year, probably in two years. Thinking about how I hurt my Daddy so much it took him two days to process it himself and to deal with me. How I disappointed him, and how he was surprised at what Iāve done because he thinks higher of me than this. How I hurt our relationship. I tried to think of what I could say to him once I was done. Towards the end I started to calm down a bit. My eyes and throat itched, my stomach hurt - but the crying was cleansing too. As difficult as it was, I realized while still standing in the corner that Iām lucky that heās willing to punish me because I need the catharsis.Ā
He physically pulled me from the corner at the end, and onto his lap. I buried my head in his neck and my hand into his beard. Having no physical distance between us was comforting, but sensing how the emotional gap had disappeared felt far better. I cried more.Ā āIām sorry that I wasnāt watching you closer. This is all done now. Itās over.ā he said. I cried harder. It took me a while to find my voice. āIām sorry.ā I finally squeaked out.Ā āOh, I know you are.ā he said in a voice so soft and genuinely that it hurt. I tried finding words but couldnāt.Ā āNo. Itās done. Itās over.ā he said in response to seeing meĀ tryĀ to find something to say. I shook my head. āI know. I do. But I just want to say that I appreciate you. Itās awful. I know it must be hard for you. Iām sorry for making you do this. I mean..notĀ āmakingā you? But..just..for putting us in this situation where itās needed? I donāt know how to say it right..ā he said he understood my point. We sat together for a long time.Ā
Our relationship ebbs and flows a bit. At itās best, it sometimes feels like we are two parts of the same whole. We click, we work together in a way that feels too seamless to be separate. It canāt stay seamless all the time, life, emotions, mental illness, stress, other things get in the way sometimes and cause a gap. Often I feel a bit more of a gap when heās depressed even though he does his best to remain present, I can just feel the fog as it comes over him. I donāt like that gap, but behaving poorly isnāt the way to close the distance. He doesnāt deserve the hurt I cause when I disobey him and it makes things so much worse for our relationship. I need to do my very best to hold firm to my submission, to stay in place, thatās how I keep the gap as small as possible. Neglecting my submission kicks at our D/s which turns the gap into a crater. Iām going to do better.Ā Ā
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