Learning to Really Submit

     It was a rough weekend. I had a pretty good idea in advance that it was going to be, but I had held out hope for something different. I just couldn't pull it together.
     Saturday marked seven years since the day my mom passed away. Seven years sounds like a long time. It's only a little less than a third of my lifetime. I was kind of blown away that it has been seven years since her death, because the grief still feels so fresh. J had to work all day, so I didn't have the option of curling up into a ball and sleeping until the day was over like I wanted to. I spent the day with my son, appreciating each second with him just a little more than usual. I was missing J though. It's hard to explain, but for some reason, when he's near .. I feel strong. I can take on anything when he's by my side. I wasn't feeling any of my own strength and I was desperate to feel his.
     Cue cramps from hell and headache, with my period just a couple of hours behind them. Perfect. The girl I used to be best friends with (like sisters) visited home for the weekend and totally blew me off.
     When J got home from work, it was after 8 and I was just finishing up dinner for the two of us. He took a quick shower and we ate together, then watched a movie I rented from Redbox.
     I waited and waited for him to bring up maintenance, but he didn't. I wondered if maybe he was waiting for the end of the movie, so I didn't say anything. By the time the movie ended, though, we were both dozing off and he asked me if he could spank me Sunday instead. I mumbled yes and quickly gathered the covers up around me, rolling so I was facing away from him. I felt like he'd taken my heart into the palm of his hand and then squeezed his hand shut around it. I'm not sure why it was so upsetting, but I am almost positive that the other things I had going on factored into it. I was feeling so many things at once, and I was overwhelmed and confused.
     He picked up pretty quickly that I was upset and he told me to get up and get the paddle so he could spank me, but I simply shook my head. He was exhausted, and he fell asleep without another word.
    
     Sunday morning, when the baby was taking his first nap of the day and J and I were sitting in the living room, he turned to look at me. "Go get the paddle." he said.
     I shook my head. "No," I protested. "Not out here.."
     "Go get it, now. Or I'll get the loopy."
     Pouting, I walked slowly to the bedroom to retrieve the paddle. I brought it back to him, my bottom lip sticking out so far I'm surprised I didn't trip on it.
     "Don't worry, it's only going to be a little one." he assured me. "Part one...the rest you'll get later." he made me bend over and stick my bottom up in the air, then started to paddle me over my panties.
      He kept his word. It was a short one, though it did sting like hell. Those darn hormones really do a number on my pain tolerance.
     The rest of the day went fairly well. It was nice being able to spend the entire day with J and the baby, as a family. We don't get very many days like that.
     After the baby went to sleep, we climbed into bed together and watched a movie. About halfway through, my eyelids started feeling heavy. I murmured to J that I was getting sleepy. In other words, Hint hint .. now would be a good time to finish up that paddling. I'm getting tired, and will probably be sleeping soon. He told me to try to stay awake since I'd rented the movie from OnDemand.
     Somehow, I managed to perk myself up, and avoid falling asleep. J wasn't so lucky. He fell asleep with about 20 minutes left to the movie. As soon as I heard him snoring, my head jerked back and I saw him lying beside me, sound asleep. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and before I knew it, I was full-on crying. I felt so .. forgotten, unimportant. Apparently I was crying loud enough to wake J, and he said, "Baby, get the paddle."
     "NO." I pulled the covers over my head, still crying pretty hard. The last thing I wanted now was a spanking. I believed, in that state of mind, that if he hadn't woken up to me crying, he wouldn't have had a clue that he'd missed anything. I couldn't bear taking what was, in my mind, a pity spanking.
     "What? Go get the paddle!" he insisted.
     I didn't even bother with a response this time.
     His voice changed now, and his tone was low. "Get the paddle or I will get the loopy."
     My tummy flip flopped, but I didn't budge. An electric surge of defiance flashed through me and I said boldly, "NO!"
     He sounded shocked, the poor guy. "You're not going to get it?" he asked, rising from the bed and going to the drawer. He was moving fast. He came back and attempted to roll me over.
     I resisted, still crying. "Babe, no..." I whimpered.
     He deflated, I saw him. He put the loopy down and got back into bed, holding his arms out to me. He held me, and soothed me, and fell back asleep.
     Once I was able to regain my composure and think about what had happened between us, I wrote him an email. I apologized for not submitting. I explained why I didn't, and then I admitted that I wasn't sure if I did the right thing by refusing to do as he said, and that I wondered if I should have submitted to it and then brought my concerns to him afterward. I knew that the way I handled it wasn't right, that was for sure. I kept seeing his shoulders slump when he realized I wasn't going to submit, and it broke my heart. I felt like a bad submissive.
     In the morning, J read the email and replied. He explained his side of the story, and told me I should have listened to him. He assured me that I was not an afterthought, and that he hadn't meant to fall asleep. He hadn't gotten much in the past few days.
     I apologized again for not obeying. He told me not to be sorry, and dropped the subject.

     Later in the day, while the baby napped, J and I were lying in our bed next to each other. I was on my belly and he was playing with the pockets on my butt.
     "I know why they put pockets on your pants," he joked. "To protect your bum from punishment."
     "A lot of good that is," I giggled. "When have I ever had a punishment over pants?"
     "Do you want one?" he asked.
     I shook my head.
     "I think you should have the loopy." he said, and my heart nearly stopped, I swear.
     "No, I don't want one.." I whined.
     After a moment's deliberation, he decided on the hairbrush. When he got up to get it, I asked if I could use the bathroom first. I thought, by the look on his face, that he wasn't going to let me. But he did. When I came back, he positioned me at the corner of the bed, and bent me over. He moved my body the way he wanted it, and then told me "I want you to stay just like this." He told me it would be four full minutes, and put that hairbrush to good use.
     Hot damn, did it hurt. Normally, it is difficult for me to stay in position in situations like these. I dont do well holding positions where I am standing and bent over. My knees collapse a lot or I end up falling forward on the bed. I often have a hard time keeping my hands out of the way.
     Not this time. I stayed in position, though I was thankful for his hand on my waist, holding me steady. I did not put my feet up or fall onto the bed. My hands didn't leave the mattress once. There were several times during the spanking when I had an overwhelming urge to put my hand back, to do anything I could do protect my bum. Even stronger than this, though, was my need to prove that I could be a good girl. I wanted to show him that I could obey him like I should. I didn't utter a single word while he spanked, even fought the urge to ask how many minutes I had left. It felt like forever. At some point, I stopped even feeling the spanking itself. I could feel my bottom burning, but the individual blows couldn't be distinguished. I sobbed softly, repeating to myself in my head over and over "stay just like this, stay just like this. It's only four minutes."
     He wasn't taking it easy on me. Even over jeans, it hurt like hell. He spanked hard, focusing on my sit spot several times, and landing a couple nasty swats on my thighs too. When he finally finished, he helped me stand, and held me against his chest while I sobbed. He asked if I felt better.
     I did. I felt proud of myself for the level of submission I was able to acheive. It probably doesn't seem like much to most, but to be able to tune everything else out and just take it without an ounce of resistance or even a whimpered plea for mercy was huge for me. I asked if I did a good job and he assured me I had. After he left for work, I sent him a text apologizing one last time for the way I reacted last night. I explained to him what was bothering me so much about it, why I felt like such a bad submissive for it. I told him that I don't want to only submit to him when it's easy, and that it's not truly submission if it's always on my terms. I apologized for not accepting that he's the one who decides when and why I get spanked. He told me that he accepts my apology, which means a lot to me. He often tells me I don't need to be sorry for something or tells me not to apologize, so for him to accept my apology felt good.