Yesterday, I experienced something that I can only describe as an awakening of sorts. Or, an epiphany? As a writer, I find it a bit unnerving that I cannot adequately describe what took place within my mind, but I’ll tell you this…it was powerful. I had to look at myself, really look at myself, and take inventory of what I saw. I will assure you my friends that I like myself and I enjoy positive self-esteem, but in this moment my eyes were opened and I saw the need for the amelioration of my moral character.
I wrote about patience yesterday, and it may be one of the most deeply personal posts you will find here on this blog. While I know that we all frequently hear “patience is a virtue” this quite goes against all of the messages I was given as a child/young adult. I was taught to “make things happen”, be a “go-getter”, and to never sit around and wait for your dreams to come true…get up off your duff and make them come true! But, what if sometimes this is not the only way?
I had no choice but to take notice when my dear friend and mentor suggested that perhaps the greatest lesson of all, for me, might be to learn patience. In one thoughtful email, I feel that he may have changed my life.
I took this information to my husband and we had a long, intense conversation. This was both moving and perhaps a pivotal moment in our relationship. Something shifted inside both of us.
After such a meaningful discussion, we longed to be intimate and to connect physically, but before that… I requested that my husband provide reinforcement for the commitment that I was making to dedicate myself to learning patience. He gave his consent and asked me to go to the bedroom, prepare myself, and wait for him.
In my preparations, I set out the strap, the four-tailed tawse, and the cane. I knew that I needed tears today and I had full confidence that this particular selection of instruments would draw them from the depths of my soul. I was still wearing my pretty new nightgown, and as my husband hadn’t instructed otherwise, I positioned myself face down over two pillows still wearing my clothing.
When he entered the room and saw me there, waiting submissively in position, he simply said “good girl”. From my place on the bed, I watched him as he considered the implements I had presented him with. Then, he lifted my night gown and drew my panties down to my knees.
He said to me, much like he always does, “I do this because I love you and because you need it.”
He started with a hand spanking, as he almost always begins. But these were not warm up spanks. These were harsher and delivered with the purpose of delivering pain to a willing recipient. I assure you that I felt every firm stroke of his granite palm. Then, he picked up the strap and in less than a minute, I had those tears that I was seeking.
But, in this pain, I began to experience an incredible transformation.
Next came the four-tail tawse. After only a few applications, I began to beg him to stop but he only commented on the lovely marks that the leather tails made across my backside.
As the pain became more intense, almost unbearable, my tears fell and my old beliefs were stripped away, leaving space for new growth.
Finally, he set down the tawse and my emotions began to spiral as he picked up the cane.
“No, please, I can’t,” I cried, feeling desperate to stop the pain of this spanking. I even considered using my safe word.
“You can, and you will,” he said, calmly. “I am going to give you ten and you will count them. After each stroke please repeat ‘I love myself enough to change’ “.
With that, he laid the cane down upon my bottom and placed his hand upon my back, encouraging me to stop resisting and relax my body. I did, lying my head down on the mattress in submission.
The first searing stroke gave me cause to cry out, but obediently I recited my line.
“One, Sir. I love myself enough to change.”
The second, seared my backside and my soul, eliciting fresh tears.
“Two, Sir. I love myself enough to change.”
With each stroke, he reinforced my decision to seek positive changes in my life.
With each stroke, my resistance melted away, and my heart and mind cleared of unhelpful thoughts.
After he delivered the fifth stroke, I began to plead again in the realization that we were only halfway through, but he was determined to complete this experience for me. For us.
His hand lightly rubbed my back and then he applied gentle pressure, encouraging me to relax my body once again. It took me a moment to obey him as I was in a great deal of pain, but finally, I was able to regain my self-control and relax myself back into position. Face down, my bottom underneath his cane, I waited. I tried to relax my mind, but the sixth stroke had me crying aloud.
“Six, Sir. I love myself enough to change.”
What I experienced under the cane was transformational.
He completed the strokes, placing the last searing stripe to the tops of my thighs.
After it was over, my husband held me and provided the necessary after care. I was crying and shaking, and he wrapped me tightly in his arms, telling me how proud he was of me. He rarely takes me to my limit and we both knew that today… he had gone beyond that point. It was such a beautiful, unforgettable experience between a dominant and his submissive.
Of course, the sex that ensued was pretty fantastic as well… but that paled in comparison to the transformation that I experienced.
There is peace in my heart today. My mind is clear of unhelpful thoughts.
It is time to begin this new journey.
In deep self-reflection and in peace,