Sometimes it is Just Good

I've been pulling in lately.  Guarding my heart.  Growing quieter and quieter.  Serving, loving, caring -- but increasingly wary and increasingly prone to put distance between myself and Him. 

He's been pulling back, spacing out the spankings, trying to guage what would be "good" for me.  He's been uncertain, undecided ... wary about how best to proceed.

Life has brought us so many changes, so quickly, that sometimes it seems almost impossible to get our bearings.  There have been long stretches here where the best we've been able to muster is to hold onto one another, and speak, over and over and over, of our love.  That determined and tenacious love for one another has anchored us in one another, even as the various storms have crashed over our heads. 

Last night, we sat on the couch; He at His end and me at mine.  He talked about spanking -- and then suggested that I didn't really want to be spanked.  That sort of thing hurts, but I've learned that there's no point in arguing.  Master is always right.  Right. 

A bit of time passed, and then He was back to the idea of spanking me with the hairbrush paddle.  But then not.  And then again.  And then not.  Back and forth, He wrestled with His own questions -- and His questions engender questioning in me:  maybe He's right?  maybe He really doesn't want to spank me anymore?  maybe there's no way to ever be good enough?  maybe I should just stop thinking about it, wanting it, needing it?  maybe?  maybe?  maybe? 

And then He made up His mind.  He told me that He wanted to spank me over His knee, and He headed off to gather up the toys He wanted.  I could feel myself relax and breathe a bit easier.  It really was going to happen. 

And -- OH!  What a wonderful, delightful, amazing session we had.  He spanked with His hand.  For a really long time.  I've turned into such a lightweight that even a hand spanking hurts in the beginning.  Certainly, last night, the hand spanking hurt, but it was also -- interesting.  I could feel my mind engaging with Him as He spanked and talked and stroked and talked and spanked.  That really is a huge part of what I need anymore -- time to find a mental pathway into the whole business.  When my mind is chattering away about whatever has me wound up at the moment, it is nearly impossible for me to focus and find the place where spanking captures me.  I end up fighting and raging my way through the whole business in that event -- but not last night.  From the very beginning, I was there WITH Him, and loving being there again. 

He did get to paddle with His beloved hairbrush paddle, and then He went and brought out the lexan paddle which is lighter and stingier.  The lexan paddle seemed easier than the hairbrush paddle, but as He went back and forth between the two, I was again interested and intrigued.  It has been a long while since I could sink into the rhythms of a spanking enough to find myself communing with the sensations I experience.  It is an odd sort of mind-body disconnect that I just love.  It lets me stay IN the session without Him having to "pull His punches." 

In the midst of all the spanking and paddling and stroking with His knives, He reached between my legs and found His way into my sex.  And it didn't hurt!  It felt good.  I began to wander along the path of pleasure that He was leading me down.  And then He'd spank and pump in and out of me, and I wanted to grind onto His hand and lift my butt into His paddle strokes. 

We played for a really long time.  Some sort of crazy mix of pain and pleasure and simple, restorative closeness that was very, very good.  I ended up flushed and teary and cuddly feeling  He ended up all hot and turned on.  Most of all, we were together and happy with one another at the end of a session.  It felt so good.  It can happen for us.  I want more and more and more of that for Him and for me and for us.

swan