On Tuesday afternoon, I finally sent Adam text messages about something I had neglected to tell him about the day before. It didn’t exactly go well…
I knew his patience was pushed past the limit when he barely replied to me, except to say things like, “we will discuss this when I get home”, or “I’m floored right now”. It’s difficult for me to even write about this here. I’m ashamed to admit that I “side stepped” something again. I didn’t realize what I had done until it was too late to take it back.
I was so nervous for Adam to get home. I felt like such an asshole because he made it very clear to me how much I’d hurt him. He didn’t text near as much as usual. He didn’t ignore me, but I couldn’t soften him up at all. It was obvious in his responses to me. When I knew he’d be getting home anytime, I watched our outdoor camera from the kitchen and waited for his truck to pull into our driveway. My heart skipped a beat when I finally saw him arriving home. I stood in front of the stove finishing supper and held my breath. I had worn a cute Fall sweater and blue jeans that make my butt look good. I had my tall wedge sandals on and had straightened my naturally curly hair so that it looked extra long and pretty. Adam later told me that he was very angry when he walked in the door, but when he rounded the corner and saw me in the kitchen, I looked so beautiful he couldn’t help but smile. He asked me if I wanted to “do this” now, or later? I told him I had supper almost finished, can we wait until after? He said sure, let’s eat. After I’d dished up the kids plates, he handed me one and told me to get something to eat. Surprisingly, I actually did eat some supper, despite my stomach being tied in knots. I cleaned the supper dishes while the kids went to take showers and do their homework upstairs. Adam came in and waited for me to finish loading the dishwasher. When I was finished, he took my hand and led me into our bedroom. After he’d closed our door, he gestured toward our bed and, when I looked over, he had laid out his belt and a wooden spoon. He informed me that I had three choices. The belt, the spoon, and he held up his hand. I started to panic and couldn’t respond with anything but a head shake. He said “ok, then the belt it is”. I said NO! I threw the belt off the bed and toward our bathroom, as far as I could get it out of the way for the moment. Then, I had two more choices. The spoon, or his hand. This was a struggle. The spoon doesn’t hurt that bad, or it hasn’t yet. However, I figure that his hand can at least feel how hard he’s spanking me. I had only a brief period of time to think this through and I wound up taking his hand in my hands and signaling to him that was what I’d decided on. He laid me down on the bed, facing him, and immediately started to unbutton and unzip my jeans. I wasn’t fighting him too much, that I recall anyway. He turned me over and pulled my jeans down past my thighs. When he asked me if I was ready, all I could do was wimper and push my face into our bed. He proceeded to spank me with force that I haven’t experienced before. One of his swats landed so perfectly hard in the same spot as the one before, my knees buckled and I fell to the floor. I put my head down and fought not to let any tears escape. He gave me a second before he leaned down and told me I had one more coming. I said noooo. He replied “yep” as he stood me up and gently laid me back over the bed. I thought, in that moment, about how soft his voice had been, and how gently he had helped me back up. He was using those same hands to be both soft and hard, at once. My thoughts were interrupted as I saw him raise his arm high in the air. I’m not exaggerating when I say, every time I think about this experience, I get goosebumps and I shudder. I absolutely do not want to repeat this. At the same time though, I realize how deeply I’ve been affected. I mean it so sincerely! I’ve been sore, where I can feel “Adam was here” the next day. I’ve never had to sleep on my stomach for two nights because my butt hurts too much to put pressure on it and get any sleep. I’ve believed that Adam “meant it” before, but holy hell… It was a whole other level of disappointed in me that he expressed that evening.
He asked me a question when he was finished. I sat on the bed with my pants still down to my knees and tears falling from my eyes. He was standing in front of me, making himself seem even bigger than usual, and me even smaller. My mind was blurry and I couldn’t figure whether the response should be yes sir, or no sir. The brief pause while I debated this made him think I was being stubborn and he started to accuse me of not getting the message. I begged him no! That wasn’t the case. I explained that I wasn’t sure how to answer him. He repeated the question. “Are you done keeping things from me, so we don’t have to do this again?” I said yes, sir. He sat down beside me and lifted my chin so that I was looking him in the eyes. Again, I replied yes, sir. He said, “you are always telling me you never want to become your mother, correct?” I nodded. He continued, “well, what do you think was the first thing that broke down between her and your dad? Communication. She didn’t tell him shit.” We’ve discussed this before. I’ve wondered what might’ve happened if my dad had stood up to her much sooner. If he’d have refused to allow her to continue on with her bullshit long ago. Adam was speaking to my heart and soul this time. I do not want to be like my mother. He told me to give him a kiss. I did. Then there were more tears that I couldn’t stop. He asked me if I needed a minute and I shook my head and said no. I wiped my eyes and I stood up. It was over.
I don’t even have any bruises on my behind! It hurts, a lot, though. I’m not angry with him. I don’t blame him. I honestly think he was 100% right. I’m so sick and tired of doing this over the same issue. What the hell is wrong with me?? In a way, I’m glad my ass is still reminding me to knock this shit off! I love my husband so freakin much. I feel guilty that he has to be so “hard” in order to gain my compliance. I need to just do what he’s asking. I want to. I intend to. I don’t think my behind can handle a repeat of Tuesday night again soon. I don’t want Adam to feel that he isn’t getting through to me, either. I’ve got it. I really am getting better. He doesn’t allow for any failure with this issue anymore, though. That’s exactly what he should be doing. I recognize that. Letting me get away with things like this, even sometimes, leads to more times, and then I’m here, fighting against a bad habit I didn’t know I’d picked up.
Yesterday evening, I wondered how he was feeling. Did he feel guilty? Proud? Still angry?