I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed.
If you've been following here for a while, you know I'm not the best at staying out trouble. My mouth and my procrastination habit have landed me in hot water more than one. On various occasions, Steve has been upset, annoyed, frustrated, even angry with me, but I can't really remember any time in the past five years that he's said that he was disappointed with me.
To make a long story short, I was upset with Steve. The reason why isn't important. The key fact here is that I let my temper lead me into making a stupid and childish decision, one that caused him a lot of unnecessary worry.
I was already regretting that decision before he got home from work so I met him outside and apologized. He just said that he had been worried and that he was glad I was okay. An hour later, he hadn't said anything else about it so I asked if he was mad at me. That's when he said he wasn't mad, just disappointed.
Even though I knew he had every right to feel that way, it hurt to hear him say it. I felt awful about it and wanted to do whatever it took to fix it. But every time I brought it up, he changed the subject. I tried to pay attention to the show he was watching, but I couldn't focus. So I sat stewing in my guilt and the uncomfortable knowledge that Steve was disappointed in me.
It was almost a relief when I heard him slide open the drawer where he stores the implements. After some rummaging around, he finally picked one. Still he didn't say anything. I kept waiting for him to tell me to get into position, but he didn't. A good twenty minutes passed before he asked if I was ready.
Even those I craved the absolution a spanking would bring, I knew it was going to hurt. My cheeks clenched in protest even as I moved into position beside him. I was too angry with myself to allow myself to go over his lap where I could draw comfort from the feel of his skin against mine. To my surprise, when he realized what I was doing, he stopped me and put me there anyway.
The spanking hurt. That's kinda the point. But what hurt even more was hearing him talk while he spanked away. He told me how worried he was and the thoughts that went through his head while he waited for me to call or text that I was okay. I've always been a world class squirmer and I wanted nothing more than to squirm away from the swats and the words he was saying, but I forced myself to stay put. I think it's the only time since we started this whole thing that I actually managed to make it through an entire spanking without him having to say come back here.
There was some good that came out of all of this though. I guess you could say that it was our wake up call. We'd been drifting a bit, moving on a somewhat parallel track, but separately rather than together. So after all this happened, we sat down and had a long talk about how we could fix this and prevent it from happening again.