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A Lesson In Mindfulness
So proud of myself, I am so proud! Laundry-list of chores were all done by 1:30 pm, affording me enough time for some pampering AND a quick trip to the grocer’s, brilliant! I had intended to make my crunchy coconut-stuffed shrimp dish, but my change of menu was the very reason I got to fit in that extra bit of primping for Him. And, let’s face it … with that primping just maybe I’ll get his face in it later tonight after our dinner with the Brennans. Ha! Hmm, best I not think of that or this evening will go by even slower than I am already sure it will. The Brennan brothers seem like the oily sort only interested in discussing themselves and showing off whatever flavor of the week they may have on their arm.
BANG – The thunder has started up again. With rain, without rain, doesn’t matter, the thunder and lightening is a daily occurrence at this time of year. I contemplate calling my Husband, my Sir, moy Serdtse (my heart), to find out if he is almost here when I feel a presence behind me. I both hear and feel him breathe down my bare neck as my heart jolts in surprise.
“I have been so eager to show you off to my new associates Adelaide, it has been on my mind all day in fact.” He holds my arms preventing me from turning around to face him as I would like.
“I am yours for the showing moy Serdtse.”
“Mmmm,” the groan as he nibbles on my neck and presses his hardness into my back has me lost to time, space and anything other than the heat and pulse that has started between my legs. He asks with a slightly raised voice now, “What is that delicious scent?”
And now I start to worry, realization peaking up from the horizon of my subconscious – although my body was too late to get the message and is making a damp spot on my panties.
“Are you wet for my touch already?” He asks sharply as he slaps my mound.
Sure from the tone of his voice, thought not the words, that I have somehow displeased him I answer careful to sound as meek as possible, “Da, moy Serdtse.”
Aha, I know what it is. He used my name, not one of the affectionate titles he uses when I have been a good girl, but my given name, and I am not being allowed to see his face. I squirm a little, distressed and confused, while He places on me wrist restraints produced seemingly from the air. Shame – that is what I feel in his silence amidst the continued banging of the thunder outside.
“We are not going out tonight Adelaide, I am very disappointed with you. Go on into the bedroom and sit in the corner while I put away that dinner you prepared and bring in some things from the car …. and Adelaide, I expect you to be thinking hard in there about why I’m displeased. I can tell you are sad from the slump of your shoulders, but I can tell too, that you are clueless as to what you have done, since you haven’t even tried apologizing.” Saying it softly instead of with anger only made the impression the words left on me that much more.
Sixteen steps are all it takes to get from where I was to where I need to be, but they seem infinite and leave my whole body feeling heavy. I hate to displease Him, I love Him, I love how I feel when I bring Him happiness and pleasure. The smiles, touches and reassuring words after I have made his heart glad are more than words can express, … and I tried today, so hard, succeeded – or so I thought. So what did I do?
Words pinch at me while I listen to him moving around – “that scent’, ‘that dinner you prepared’ – what was that about? ‘Bring in some things from the car’ – What things? I had everything we were going to need to bring. …
Fifteen minutes pass … I think, maybe more …
“Adelaide, are you ready to apologize to me?”
“I’m sorry I .. I prepared a different dinner from wh-what I said I would? Sir?” I sniffle, and tears that had until then remained steadfast at feeling unjustly interrogated began flowing.
“That’s right, I asked you last weekend to make a decision about what you would be making to bring tonight, and you answered me after I asked you a second time, on Monday evening. Remember?”
I shake my slumped head while remembering, sorry I had thought it a small thing to change my mind.
“But I could tell immediately when I entered the house from the scent left behind after your baking that you did not make what you said you would.”
I can tell he is pacing in front of me now, though I don’t raise my flowing eyes to look.
“Do you think I ask questions for no reason? Do you think I will not hold you accountable like a responsible Husband and Dominant when you do not keep to plans you have made, and expectations I then have?”
“S-sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t … I wasn’t thinking, I wanted to dye my hair for you a-a-and redo my n-n-ails so I … I was so stupid, I’m sorry.”
More time passes in silence, though I know he is there. It is breaking my heart.
Then a warm hand rests on my head and slightly pulls me forward on my knees so my torso leans against one of his legs. Instinctively I rub my face into the ‘life-preserver’, needing the assurance that he is still here, that he still wants me, that I can be forgiven.
“My Adelaide you are not stupid,” he says lovingly, “I love you so much, and you know I don’t accept you talking about yourself that way. You weren’t stupid, but you were not mindful as you should have been. You need to do what you say you will. Going back on your word, unless absolutely necessary, is not acceptable behavior in any area of life. Also, I know you wanted to look your best for me, I appreciate that, and you do look beautiful as always but, … who were you thinking about when you chose the new color of your hair and even the style? You made decisions YOU thought would please me instead of asking me my preference. That was not you being mindful of your submission was it? ”
I shake my whole body side to side wholeheartedly agreeing with everything that was said, now understanding not just the ‘what’ but the ‘why’ and mentally berating myself. While starting to mumble nonsense in-between more sobs I feel strong hands around me pulling me up and into a warm embrace. I can’t yet look up at Him, I haven’t been verbally forgiven and thus released to look into his eyes. I’m not sure I could look into those eyes yet. I am happy here, warm in strong and loving arms while being rocked – I am sad here, aware that I ruined His evening and feeling like NOTHING could make up for it. Maybe I’m just no good? Maybe he’s better off with someone else? Someone more obedient? Mindful? I don’t try as hard as I could have. Will I ever be enough?
We have been friends 24 years, lovers 8, and all that love and history wrap protectively around me when, as if hearing my thoughts, he whispers firmly, ” You are moy Haroshee Maleshka, da?! ( ..my good little girl, yes?!) Ya lyublyu tibya. ( I love you.) I know you will do better next time. We all work to become our best selves. Your tears tell me you want to please me, and you want to be the best you, and that is why I push you. I will always work towards what’s best for you, because I love you.”
” Good girls accept their discipline and then use it to motivate positive change. I will not spank you tonight. I had bought a special gift for the evening, along with your favorite wine to go along with the dinner you had told me you would make … these you will not receive until next weekend when we will be joining the Brennans if you are obedient and mindful this week. ”
“And Maleshka moya? … I have faith you will be your best this week.” He tilts my chin up so my lips are not an inch from his as he stares heatedly in my eyes. “Such a good girl. Kiss me now, then pull down that hair,” he smiles, “you know I prefer it a mess and damp with sweat from showing my woman who she belongs to.” -
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