There’s a pretty predictable “routine” that follows something I’ve done to earn Adam’s hard hands. His hands are usually so gentle. He holds my face in his hands and kisses me. He rubs my back. He hugs me tight. He plays with my hair while I’m laying beside him. He holds my hand when we’re in the car. There are times, though, when his hands turn to stone. My gosh, his hands can be so hard. I’ve looked at the scars on his knuckles. I know they’re from his younger, wilder days. I can’t even imagine what the full force of his angry fist would feel like! I know there’s not a chance in hell I’ll ever find out, either. Adam would absolutely never harm me. I know I’m safe with him. There’s never any danger to me when I’m with him. That’s not to suggest that his open palmed “hard hands” connecting with my behind don’t create any fear factor for me.
With reliable predictability, I will do my very best to explain my actions to Adam in a way that helps to minimize what I’ve done. With reliable predictability, it won’t work. I sometimes get frustrated about that. Usually, I know it’s best to shut my mouth and just accept that I’ve fucked up and he’s going to punish me. Occasionally, I’ll fight him on it. I have been known to succeed when I do that, but not lately. He’s really gotten good at refusing to let me break him down enough to change his mind. I’ve been helping him with that. He asked me to write him a letter a few months ago. I can’t remember why? I had done something dumb, but not serious enough to warrant a spanking. He wanted me to write him a letter. He keeps it in his drawer in our bathroom. I basically told him to stay on point and don’t let me take him off track so that we just end up both being angry, sad, and lonely. I don’t even remember everything else I said, but it has worked. There hasn’t been a time, since, when I’ve successfully talked, or argued, my way out of a spanking because I got him angry enough to step down from his pedestal and lose his authority because he said something stupid and hurtful and immature to me. You’d think I’d just stop trying, but there’s still something in me that can’t help but push him to do it so that I don’t have to feel like I’m the only one who’s wrong in the situation. I know it’s stupid and immature… when I’m not in it. This is why this letter was written the way it was. It’s only when I’m in the moment, feeling this overwhelming anger, frustration, shame, and fear that I go temporarily “insane” sometimes.
Adam never spanks me in front of anyone when it’s a serious one. He smacks me on my ass all the time, without a care for who’s watching. Sometimes, it’s a warning or a quick “knock it off” kind of thing. Mostly, it’s playful. He doesn’t degrade me. He never embarrasses me in front of people. When I’m in trouble, he calls me into our bedroom and he shuts and locks our door. I never have to wonder why I’m in trouble. He is very clear and takes plenty of time and energy to make sure I understand exactly why we’re here. He doesn’t lecture me while I’m being spanked. He talks to me before, and then after. I have never cried during the spanking. I have absolutely broken down after, when he looks at me and I can see that he’s genuinely hoping I’ve gotten the message this time. I can feel his struggle. I know it is very hard for him to hurt me. He’s always watching and listening to me. Making sure I’m okay, but I’m also taking this seriously. He’s careful to make sure that my mind and body are focused on what he’s punishing me for. Always making certain that I’m not going to a place in my mind where, instead of learning a positive lesson, I wind up traumatized and overwhelmed. He’s watching me, making sure I’m still “with him” and not going to that dark place where I feel only fear. Adam understands very well where my brain can go to sometimes. Although, I’ve never had this happen during a spanking. I had a panic attack once while he was tickling me. I sometimes start to struggle when he’s holding me, and he can sense it and immediately loosens his grip or lets go altogether. Seeing the effort he’s still putting into ensuring that I’m okay, regardless of how upset with me he might be, that breaks me. He’s disappointed in me. He’s hurt. He’s sad that he has to do this. It’s my fault. I feel awful. The shame is just too much. The combination of everything the experience of a punishment spanking involves just works, for us.
Maybe I’m weird? Maybe we’re kinky? Maybe it seems crazy to some people to imagine their own relationship looking like this. That’s fine. This is my life. This is my husband. This is me. I’m not going to suggest that I enjoy being punished. I don’t. I’m also not going to deny that it is sexy as hell to me, later, knowing and remembering the way my husband bared my bottom and humbled me. It’s the emotions that get me. Emotions I wouldn’t have without being combined with his hard hands leaving impressions on me physically, mentally, emotionally.