When I was frustrated and trying to find a way to get Steve to put his HoH hat back on, I didn't really expect it to go the way it did. But I guess that's the way it works. If I could direct how things go, he wouldn't really be in the lead.
It all started with a phone call yesterday afternoon. It wasn't a good one. Someone is trying to stir up trouble for us and unfortunately, they succeeded in it. As if the situation wasn't bad enough to start with, I inadvertently made it worse.
I called Steve to let him know what was going on, including confessing to my part in making it worse. Needless to say, he wasn't happy. When he got home from work, I was still pretty upset about everything so I kept looking to him for support, waiting for him to tell me it was going to be okay. But he didn't.
Instead he withdrew. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. He's always been my rock, the one I lean on when things get crazy, and not being able to lean on him and have his support hit me pretty hard. I tried to keep it together and mostly succeeded. At one point, my emotions (and tongue) threatened to get the better of me so I told him I needed a few minutes and went to another room until I could pull myself together. That's a point towards progress at least.
He didn't say much through the evening. I guess he could tell I was worried about the situation and felt terribly guilty over my part in making it worse. When we went to bed, each of us on our own side of the bed, neither of us could sleep.
Finally he relented and curled up against me. He still didn't say anything, just wrapped his arm around me. We laid there for a while not talking. Some of the tension drained from me and all of a sudden I was exhausted.
I had just drifted off to sleep when the first swat landed. It wasn't one of those easy warm up swats either. It was a doozy, one of those that tells you right away that it's going to be a hard spanking to take. I debated about telling him he should take it easy because it's been a while since I've been spanked, but then I thought better of it (probably a good thing in hindsight).
The ones that followed were even worse. He doesn't often spank with his hand, but it definitely carries a wallop. Last night was the first time he's ever brought me to tears spanking with his hand, which was surprising considering I still had my panties on (not that they offered a lot of coverage or protection). And he didn't say a word, not that he really needed to.
Normally he stops pretty fast once I start crying, but that didn't happen. Instead he peeled down my panties. Considering I was already in tears from being spanked with them on, I was not exactly looking forward to feeling his hand against my bare bottom.
That feeling in the pit of my stomach got even worse when I heard the dresser drawer open. Those swats by hand over the panties were nothing compared to what the paddle on a bare, already sore bottom was like. Barely ten swats in and I was chanting steady I'm sorrys.
Steve spoke up then, telling me I wasn't sorry enough yet. It's the only time he spoke through the entire spanking. The swats got even worse from there. I've got some bad spankings since we started this journey, but this one was definitely the worst.
When it was over, he let me go, dropped the paddle back in its usual resting spot and laid down. I kept waiting for him to wrap his arms around me and tell me it was over and I was forgiven, but he didn't. Finally I readjusted my clothing and climbed back up in the bed since I had somehow wound up at the foot of the bed during all the activity. I lay there on my stomach stealing glances at him from time to time, but it was clear that he had withdrawn again. Eventually I fell asleep.
This morning I got our daughter off to school and then waited for Steve to get up. Once he did, I asked the question that had been rattling around in my head since the night before. Was he still upset with me? He said he wasn't, just disappointed, which of course is even worse than him being upset with me. That put an ache in my heart that matched the ache in my bottom.
He took the day off to help me deal with the situation the trouble-maker had stirred up. It wasn't until we were eating lunch that I finally got around to asking him about the other thing that was bothering me-his failure to comfort me after the spanking. When he said he wasn't exactly in the comforting mood, I came close to losing it. This whole situation has my emotions running pretty high.
Since I know his are running high as well and the last thing I want is us to end up fighting because we're both wound up, I excused myself for a few minutes to pull it together. Once I had calmed down, I came back and we talked some more. I told him that his failure to comfort me left me feeling like he was still upset with me and hadn't forgiven me. He listened to what I had to say and then apologized for the way he'd handled it.
The rest of the day went a bit better after that. We're not out of the woods yet, but thankfully it seems like we've made some progress at getting out of the situation we're in. We should know before too long whether it's over or not. Then we can deal with the troublemaker.
It seems hard to believe that only two day have passed since I was talking about speed bumps. One thing about it, when Steve decides it's time we get off the speed bump, he does it. While the sore bottom I'm sitting on is probably going to linger for a few days, I feel better now knowing that he's got us.