(Read the previous post first if you want the back-story)
OK. Full tummy and some time off of my sore butt and now I’m ready to continue. 🙂 I’m sitting on two pillows as I write this but it still hurts. *sigh*
So, I got to Dave’s and he was still in the shower. I was all nervous and having trouble looking at him when he got out of the shower and greeted me. I did spill that I had something else to tell him but that DH told me I shouldn’t tell him until after. He guessed right away why that was, which I thought was sort of eerie — do they ALL think alike? He says, "It’s so ridiculous that he figures it’s going to require a separate punishment?" I just blushed. "Well, we’re going to follow his lead. He’s got more experience than both of us, and he knows what the big secret is. If he told you to wait on telling me then you’re going to wait."
When it was finally time he announced it by telling me, "OK Angela. Go into my bedroom, smooth out the comforter, take off your shorts and wait for me on the bed. We’re going to take care of this right now." I obeyed immediately. The tone of his voice gave me an indication that to do otherwise would be really stupid. I’m not usually required to disrobe in anyway prior to his coming into the room. This was a new thing, and if I wasn’t already in the headspace I needed to be in, this would’ve done it for me. I was so embarrassed to be sitting there in my panties and shirt in the middle of the bed when he came in. Something about having to prepare myself this way really got to me. I’ve stressed to him in the past how important *ritual* is to me, and I know others who read here (*waves to Mija*) totally understand. Now I know Dave does, too.
He came in and wasted no time. He made me tell him why I was being punished, put me across his lap (supported by the bed, always aware now of the limits of my fibromyalgia and incorporating them into punishment or play almost as if it’s second-nature to him now), and spanked me with his right hand until his shoulder started hurting, then switched me to his left side. It hurt almost immediately. There was one funny moment when he said "I take seriously very safety, do you understand?" and our eyes met in his mirrored headboard and I started to laugh despite my tearing-up eyes and my sore bottom and he goes, "You think that’s funny. Well, it’s kind of funny …" and I could tell he was about to laugh, too. And that’s one of the many things I love about him. But, he was in the zone, and he was quite annoyed with me for the things he was punishing me for, and I was quite repentant for the things I was being punished for, so what would’ve broken us up in role play didn’t this time. He said something to the effect of, "You’re not going to be thinking this is funny for much longer" and he was right. But it was a sweet moment.
The ping-pong paddle came next and I’m afraid I wasn’t a very good girl for it. It stings so much when it hits in the wrong spot (or the right one, depending on your vantage point, I guess) and there was much wiggling and pleading on my part. There was a lot of scolding from him during this, and a lot of promises from me – none of which I remember with any clarity, just the gist of it all. I have marks from that paddle and I was crying full-out before he let me up. Then he told me to take off my shirt and get over some pillows on the bed. I hesitated. We’ve only recently been delving into stages of undress that go beyond bare-bottom — meaning nudity, or bra-only. There’s something very submissive about having to be completely nude for a punishment, and my weight/body image issues have always prohibited me from being comfortable with it, but with this man, in this relationship, I feel my submission so completely and I feel that his asking that of me, and my complying is a sign of how truly I trust him. Among other things. It’s also very embarrassing – humiliating even – and gets to me at my core in a way that spanking alone probably doesn’t. So, when he told me I had to take off more clothing I hesitated, but I knew from the look in his eyes there was no arguing and I was only going to make it worse. I took off my shirt, tried to cover myself with it, but he took it from me, made me stand there for a moment so that my stage of undress was *known* to me, and then he sort of pushed/led me over the pillows on the bed.
I hid my face almost the whole time he was using the strap on me. It’s a large leather strap, doubled over. I used to not mind it so much and he could use it for ever and I didn’t really care. Now, I don’t know, I hate the damn thing. It HURTS. For some reason, my love affair with leather has died. I kicked, I moved, I put my hands back, I cried, I begged. And it just kept on. I probably got 50 or so with it and then, finally, it was over. We hugged, and I dressed, and we sat on the bed together and he said, "OK, tell me." Oh God. I’d almost forgotten. Shit. So, I told him. I told him how the prednisone tasted AWFUL, and made me gag, and that was why I stopped taking it, but now I was kind of getting sick again so I knew it was bad that I stopped taking it.
"You didn’t like the taste of the medicine your doctor gave you to get your lungs functioning right again, so you STOPPED TAKING IT? Because you DIDN’T LIKE THE TASTE?" I nodded. He got up, left the room. I heard him in the kitchen. He came back to his room, and went into his master bathroom. I saw him rooting around in drawers in there. I knew what was coming. It’s only ever happened to me once before, really. Once on the phone – but the truth is, I had a towel wrapped around it then, so that doesn’t count. And the only other time Dave did it to me, it was so quick, and I didn’t really remember it, and it was two years ago. Oh my gosh … not this, please. I mean, for what I did, and the reason I did it, this obviously was PERFECT, but nooooooooooo.
"Angela, take off your shirt and come here." Take off my shirt? Oh, yeah, dripping … yeah, that might ruin my shirt. Damn it. I was hoping I was wrong. Fuck. "Open." That’s when I started pleading.
"Dave, you can’t soap my mouth when I have bronchitis! I read somewhere that if I’m crying and stuff I could aspirate it! I already have lung issues. You want me to get PNEUMONIA! You can’t do this."
He just said, "Well, then don’t cry and don’t aspirate it. You want to know what disgusting tastes like? You want to not take your medicine because it TASTES BAD? You’re going to spend some time tasting something bad. OPEN YOUR MOUTH ANGELA. NOW." I obeyed, and he stuck the bar of Ivory in my mouth. "Bite down." I did, careful to keep my tongue away, but aware that nothing would keep me from tasting it. I was also careful not to cry, and if you know me, you know this is a feat in and of itself. He marched me to the corner, turned me to face it, and reached around to undo my shorts and pull them, along with my panties, to my knees. "Hands behind your head."
I don’t know how long I stood there, trying not to taste the soap, but tasting it anyway; trying not to cry, but losing a couple tears here and there anyway. It wasn’t too long, but it was certainly awhile. I knew that when he called me out of the corner there was going to be more pain to come and I was feeling sad for my already-sore bottom, but God I wanted that soap out of my mouth. And I was also thinking, "Geez, I had no idea this is what a mouth-soaping was like. And I bet it gets worse than this. If this is how awful it is, we could use this as a deterrent on the fast-food I’ve been eating way too much of and I swear, it would work where spanking hasn’t."
When he called me out of the corner, he let me rinse, but only a little. Then he made me bend over and he paddled me with this semi-heavy, school-like paddle (but no holes) over my panties. It hurt so bad. He told me I was getting 12 and if I moved we’d start over. And he started HARD. He’s never that mean. After three I stood up, so he started over. I stayed in place and openly bawled my eyes out. Then he took out the Lexan and began to paddle me with that, and that’s when I broke. My heavy sobs led to breathing trouble; I started to cough, and I guess I had soap in my throat which made me gag, and I ran to the sink and .. well, the punishment was over. At that point, he could tell I’d sufficiently learned my lesson.
There was a great deal of teeth-brushing and mouth-rinsing after. And then lots of hugs and cuddles and I love yous and promises from me to be sooooooo good from now until the end of time. I just took my Prednisone, and I have to tell you — it’s bad, but it’s preferrable to Ivory. Anyone who’s still reading at this point, thanks for hanging in there. 🙂 It was very cathartic to write this all down and I’m glad to have a place to do it and if there are people willing to read about it, that’s even better.