This is the final part of a three part story. To read the first two parts, click here and here.
It was later in the evening. I could tell my husband had made a full recovery in confidence by the way he was acting. He gave stern warnings throughout the evening as to what would happen later. After dinner, he ordered me into the bedroom. He had me strip down completely and choose three implements. I opened our closet, sat down, and slowly sifted through our bag of implements, choosing carefully, taking my time.
"You're taking too long, young lady. You better move faster," he warned.
I hurried to the bed with a belt, a plastic spatula, and a wooden spoon. He placed them on the bed and ordered me into the corner, where I stood still and contemplated my fate. I guess it's time to reveal now why I felt I deserved this punishment. Occasionally, my husband will give me assignments to complete, especially when he's gone. He gave me a three part assignment to complete by June 15th, and I failed to complete the third and final part. He gave me some leeway, because it did involve having time and energy to complete, but I put it off until the day before he was supposed to come home, and I figured, by that time, there was no point in completing it when I would see him so soon. Of course, I discussed none of this with him, and came to the conclusion all by myself that it was OK for me not to complete the third part.
He called me over and made me stand still in front of him, looking him in the eye.
"I gave you an extension and you still did not complete that assignment. You thought you could decide for yourself, without discussing with me, that it was OK not to complete it. Well, that's not the case, young lady; you do not put off what I tell you to do and decide for yourself what you will do."
I told him I was sorry. It was all I could say. He was right, of course, and anything else sounded like a poor excuse. He talked about our relationship and how seriously we should both be taking it, which made me tear up. I felt awful--I already wanted this to be over, and it had barely started yet.
He sent me back to the corner for a while longer, and then called me over to the bed to begin my punishment. I crawled over his lap, and he began to spank my bare bottom with his hand.
The contrast in mood between this spanking and my spanking earlier in the day was astounding. This was the mindset I needed, the preparation I wanted, and the punishment I craved. This was all serious and no fun. I could tell in the weight of his hand that this was going to push my limits.
He lectured and spanked simultaneously. Sometimes he would pause to say something, while rubbing my bottom, then he would begin anew with harsh smacks. Deciding I was sufficiently warmed up, he reached for the belt, and I cried out as the sting of leather began to assault the sensitive parts of my bottom.
After several dozen smacks with the belt, he transitioned into the plastic spatula, which I sometimes enjoy, but did not today. It hurt--he was not being light and fun with it. I squirmed and yelled as the heat and intensity built.
Once my bottom had been roasted by plastic, he moved onto the wooden spoon-a small but mighty instrument with a concentrated sting. My bottom was really burning at this point. My breathing was heavy, I fought, squirmed, wailed for his sympathy, and, eventually, gave up fighting and lay there submissively as the smacks continued. This was the most intense punishment spanking I had ever endured from my husband.
It finally ended, and I was back in the corner. I felt lonely there in the corner. I wanted to be in his arms, which I think he sensed, and he came over and embraced me for a long time. I felt enveloped in his warmth and comfort, which made me tear up for the third time that night.
He brought me to the bed, where we made love, although "making love" doesn't do justice to what happened between us. It was as if we became one single being--like we were part of each other with the same thoughts, the same movements, the same breath. I felt as if I had somehow been absorbed by him.
It can only be described as Beautiful.
I've never experienced a connection like this with anyone in my life, and I know that DD has done this for us. DD has created in us a spiritual and emotional bond of selflessness and submission to each other. We fall in love with each other over and over again, each time stronger and more intense than the last.
It is not without its lows. We often have to navigate through non-fulfilling sessions, bad moments, and disappointed feelings. But, through careful communication and commitment, come beautiful moments like these, where our relationship transcends to something outside of ourselves. Through failed attempts come smashing successes, which are appreciated more when we've worked for it.
So, we have the good, the bad, and the beautiful, and I appreciate each and every moment for what it is and what it can teach us about our relationship.