A new sense of things...

Master has the advantage of working at home at least part of the time. There are whole days when the things that He needs to do can be managed with His cell phone and His laptop computer, such that He really never needs to leave the house. On days like that, it can be nearly impossible to ascertain His actual whereabouts even if I'm in fairly regular contact with Him throughout the day -- unless of course I actually ask the question...

Monday turned out to be one of those kinds of days. I taught all day, checking in with Him by IM as I had spare moments, but just assuming that He was "at work." When my day was finished, I sent a quick IM telling Him that I was packing to leave and got back a quick one from Him stating that He was looking forward to "having me." I didn't give that much thought and headed out to my car. Once there, I think I even phoned Him and told Him I was on my way, and we chatted for a few minutes as I drove home. Those calls are routine for us, and seldom last long as I don't feel safe driving while I talk because of my "one-ear" limitation related to my hearing loss. Anyway, I zipped on home fairly quickly knowing it was one of our "banquet" nights and figuring I'd have to zip around and get gussied up to go out. Imagine my surprise when I arrived to find Him there, having clearly never left at all...

It quickly became clear that He had plans for me before we got ready to go out for the evening. I was barely through the door, still laden with all the bags and junk that we teachers tote around with us, when He had me by the hand and was dragging me into the house... I did manage to get my lunch bag dropped off in the kitchen, and wiggle out of my coat before He dragged me off to the bedroom...

In the blink of an eye, He'd tipped me over the edge of the bed and had whacked me a couple of cracks with the Hanson paddle that He obviously had placed close at the ready. Yelping, I squirmed out of the way, completely unprepared for the suddeness of it all. Without a moments hesitation, He grabbed my wrist cuffs and a strap for around my knees and proceeded to restrain me.

That calmed me some and centered me into the place of a more quiet acceptance of what was coming. Stacking up some pillows, and now pulling up my "school marm" dress, He dumped me back onto the edge of the bed. This time He did give me the gift of a warmup, spanking me thoroughly with His hand until I could feel the heat rising through my tights (He does love it when He catches me wearing tights). Then it was back to the paddle, and this time I was caught. He'd been promising for weeks that there would again come a time when He'd spank and not worry about whether I liked it or not... I suspect this was the commencement of that reassertion of His place. I begged. I yelped and cried and hollared and squirmed. He went right on. It was, with the exception of the warmup, entirely His pleasure that was being served.

When it was ended, I was exhausted, spent. I was also amazed. Normally, in such a session, I hit a spot of bitterness, rage, and denial. If it came up, it was so brief as to be unnoticed. He took me, and took me through it all. I never had the opportunity to deny Him or to deny myself. When it was over, I was sure; of Him and of myself. It was wonderful to lie in His arms, worn out and shaking and still teary from the pain, but knowing who I was at last, and to whom I absolutely belonged.

He promised, in the aftermath, that there would be regular repeats. I am sure there will be. I've always thought I hated His paddles. This is the first time I can remember being grateful for the pain He brings me with those dreaded implements.

swan