There are times when I can be too persevering for my own good. The other night Brad and I had a little misunderstanding, a painful one for me. I had sexted with him all day long… stirring the pot for both of us. We were ready to go by the time the kids fell asleep. We have two kids whose bedrooms are really close to ours. I am getting increasingly paranoid about implements that make a lot of noise, and unfortunately it’s quiet ones that hurt the most. I’d also like to say that like childbirth, after a while you forget how badly some things hurt. I’d given a thumbs up on the 69¢ yardstick and the wood spoon.
I saw him bring the spoon in, I knew he’s use it at some point. Still, that first whack is startling. I almost jumped out of my skin. I went into panic mode “wait wait wait… let me compose myself, I can’t, it hurts too bad!” He let me breathe for like 10 seconds and I said “please please please, let me lay on your lap…” He said ok and it kind of sounded like he felt sorry for me. I should have worked with that…. I didn’t last too long before I was in freak out mode again. As a general rule, I don’t cuss, but that thing makes me cuss. Finally he switched to the yardstick and I was grateful. It felt great after what I’d just been through, but it didn’t last for very long, I was still pretty squirmy. He stood up and I asked him if he was done. He said “yeah, did you still want more?”
And then I made a very big mistake.
“Are you giving up on me?” I asked. I said it kind of teasingly… I didn’t want him to stop altogether just yet, but I certainly didn’t expect him to pick up the spoon again after all the hell I’d raised 5 minutes go. He grabbed me around the waist and ignored my pleas to use something else. Oh my, I thought I was going to lose my vision it hurt so much. In my struggle I blurted this out “I’m going to have to use my safeword!” But I didn’t use my safeword. Actually, my safeword is safeword, I figured it would be easy to remember, stop laughing at me. So technically I did say it, but I don’t think it counts here. Regardless, two whacks later he let me go. That is the closest I have ever come to using a safeword. For some reason I have this stubborn attitude about it. I really don’t know why, but that will have to change. This is the third time I can think of that I really should have, for both of us. It’s not fair to Brad to not let him know when I really need him to stop.
When we talked about it afterward he told me that he thought I meant that I wanted to him spank me past that panicky feeling. It was a misunderstanding. There have been time when I have meant that, times that he’s delivered exactly what I needed. This time was a learning experience. I understand why he would think that was what I meant, and I was less than clear. I’m grateful that he his intentions were good towards me, and I am especially thankful that we were able to talk about it afterward and there was no emotional fallout.
And now for some comic relief – click on the picture if it’s too small to read