I broke a rule and so a punishment is in order. I don’t know what the punishment will be, but with J at work I know Mr. H has more scope. I’m nervous and a little excited too, but mostly I feel bad for having broken the rule. Mr. H does not like to punish me and putting him in this position makes me feel ashamed.
Confessions of a Submissive Wife.
Last night I was asking Mr. H if he really didn’t think things had changed much with the introduction of D/s, and he replied he felt he was lied to less which is good. I have written before how I feel badly about the lies I used to tell, but I also realised that I had purchased items recently without asking permission. I needed some noses for upcoming amigurumi projects and I had just gone to Ebay and ordered the noses. It didn’t cross my mind to ask first, and so this morning, I confessed. I knew I would be receiving a punishment.
Before play time began, I was instructed to get onto the bed and lay on the wedge as is usual. Mr. H said I should be grateful that the squealer was in the bags that he couldn’t get to. Instead he got the cane out. So I was laid face down. Mr. H told me that I would not like my punishment, and he didn’t like to do it, but we had agreed there would be a punishment.
I was to receive 5 strikes of the cane.
I gasped. A hot searing pain across my behind, taking my breath away. Damn it hurt.
My toes curled, hands balled, breath whooshed out, as the cane hit me again. I knew I wouldn’t forget this in a hurry.
I was glad I was half way through, grateful it was only 5, and not 10. The burning pain from the cane was intense, excruciating. The arousal I had felt earlier, when Mr. H was talking in his stern voice, telling me why I was to be punished and how.
Oh thank goodness it was nearly done, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as my red hot backside absorbed the fourth blow.
It was over. I breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. H stroked my bottom gently where it burned from the punishment. He had been right I had not enjoyed it, and was not in any hurry to repeat it. At the same time I was acutely aware that Mr. H had not hit me as hard as he could – no where near as hard as he could have – I had got off lightly.
The lesson learned?
Yes, absolutely with a capital Y! Just 5 from Sir this afternoon and six hours later I can still feel it. I agreed to these terms and I need to stick to them, or next time it will be 10, and probably even harder.
I prefer physical punishments, they allow me to move forward. Afterwards I feel forgiven, I have paid for my error and the punishment allows me to obtain forgiveness, not just from Mr. H but from myself too in a way that discussion does not. I have often wondered why this is the case, and I believe it is because I do not trust words. Words are easily spoken, as a society we say ‘I love you’ far too often and ‘I forgive you’ nowhere near enough. My biggest fear is for the relationship between Mr H and I to breakdown. I have spoken about this HERE and this post highlights my mistrust in language among many other things.
D/s saved me.
Thats a big claim right? But I believe it to be true. D/s made me feel accountable to Mr. H and myself in a way I hadn’t before, and it made us focus on making sure we were listening to each other when we did talk. I mean we didn’t ignore one another, but after 18 years of marriage, we had a comfortable relationship where the passion had waned a little, and I didn’t feel confident enough to tell him my fantasies (after all good, nice girls didn’t do that). D/s opened the door and gave me the opportunity to do so. My confidence in ‘us’ has grown from there, but we do still struggle when it comes to discussion as Mr. H does not analyze things to the nth degree the way I do. He is getting better though as with practice comes ease, but he does still struggle to express himself, either he doesn’t know how he feels or he lacks the language to describe it- I’m not sure which.
And yet, as inadequate as language can feel at times, it can be an most effective tool. Having said all this, I sometimes feel those moments (you know those moments after sex) when words are not needed are the ones where I know what is in Mr. H’s heart most clearly. In those moments, language isn’t inadequate – it’s unnecessary.
This post was in part inspired by the Wicked Wednesday prompt #424 ‘the inadequacies of language.’ To see more posts inspired by the topic click HERE. The selected featured image/photo for this post has been selected for it’s thoughtful feeling, as it reminds me of how I felt when waiting for my punishment.