Peppermint

I’m the kinkier one. My husband, in an effort to see me happy, will do just about anything I ask. I told him I want to be his slave, so he’s trying his hardest to be a master. He does really well in most aspects. Until I cry. When I cry, he softens. I love it. I love knowing that he doesn’t want to truly hurt me. But it’s really going to have an effect on this whole Master/Slave relationship thing.

We’ve never used a safe word. Last night, he asked me to give him a word. He wanted a safe word, because I cried while I took my punishment spanking. He can’t stand to hurt me more than I can take, but he can’t tell where that fine line of what I can take and what’s too much is anymore. I relish in the tears, and he knows that, but he doesn’t know what to do.

Is it strange that I don’t feel safer with the safe word? I know I won’t use it, especially during a punishment spanking. I push myself too hard in a lot of aspects in life, and taking the pain he gives me is one of them. I know that in the moment, I’ll question myself. I’ll be thinking “If this were really more than I could take, I’d pass out from the pain. But I’m not, so I can take it.” I know the way I work. If a safe word will make him feel better, good. But now, deep in the back of my mind, I’m worried that he’s going to be ruthless. It’s going to be more than it’s ever been before, because he can feel comfortable that I'll say "Peppermint..." if it's too much. But I'm pretty sure I never will...

I had worked up to 32 licks. I thought I was at 31, so he increased it to 33 when I gave him the wrong. 33 licks. The belt, the bamboo spoons. It was more than 33 though, because the way he had me bound, I was having to sit on my knees with my feet under my butt. He kept catching my heels with the belt, so only half of the belt would hit. But it still hurt. BAD. Haha. But, he wouldn’t let them count, so I wound up with extras. About the fifth time he did that, I got frustrated. The tears came to my eyes, and I told him that I wished he would stop that. “Oh you do, do you?” Uh-oh. I explained that it still hurt and I felt like I was being punished with more than the licks I had racked up because I kept having to take 1 ½. So he let my comment slide, and put the belt away in favor of the spoons. Boy do they hurt, but at least he wasn’t missing with them. I was already teared up from belt problem when he let out five or ten hits with one of the spoons in rapid succession. I was supposed to be counting, backward at that, and I couldn’t keep up. I let out a sob and the tears started streaming as I looked over my shoulder at him and exclaimed that I couldn’t keep up. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t have caught the look in eyes, the way the softened. The way his shoulders slumped. But I did. I knew he was having a hard time with this, feeling like he was hurting me. I straightened my back, stopped the tears, and nodded slightly. I took the rest of my licks as bravely as I could. I feel bad that he has those moments of “Is this more than she wanted?” I feel like it’s my fault. But am I not supposed to be giving that up? The guilt, the thinking anything is my fault? He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t want too, even if I did start this. But it still bothers me to know he has those moments of uncertainty.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, after I assured him I was okay. I felt beautiful as I smiled at him with tears streaming down my face…