Trust Me

To admit that stress relief spankings are effective is probably one of the hardest things I've ever done in ttwd. Punishment spankings for something I did wrong is one thing, but to submit to a comparable level of pain for something that is above and beyond my control, like stress or anxiety was viewed by me as a little barbaric, unfair, and crossed that fine line between submission and masochism.  Ever since the article on whipping therapy started circulating around in the last few months, I tried to keep an open mind, but in talking with so many other women about the concept of stress relief and hearing how they ask for it and benefit from it, I could only shake my head in disbelief as I tried to understand the phenomenon behind the practice.

B'Man initiated several stress relievers in the past few months due to some chemical imbalances that kept me off kilter, and I reluctantly submitted. The very first time my thinking was, okay, lets get this over with. when it doesn't work, I can tell him it's a waste of time, and we'll never have to do this again.

Well, much to my chagrin... it was helpful. My head was a little clearer, my endorphins a bit stronger, my energy a bit heightened...

This past week I was in emotional trouble. I had not been out of the house since Sunday, and here it was Friday. The bowels of hormone hell had opened up and swallowed me whole, and as I sank into the abyss, I grabbed on to B'Man's ankle and dragged him under with me. I had run out of Vitamin D, a supplement that had kept my chin above the murky waters for several weeks. I felt myself drowning. Menopausal symptoms had hit a new level of discomfort, a level that I had never imagined. The body aches were more severe, the fatigue more acute and the mood swings more intense. I knew this was temporary, but it seemed interminable.

On Monday, I instant messaged B'Man and announced that he could handle it any way he wanted, but I had absolutely no intention of leaving the house under any circumstances. The cold was more than I could bear, and my nerves were dangerously on the edge of reason. While the outcome of the war was in question, I was clearly losing the battle. I no longer had the will to fight for my sanity as vigorously as I had been. All the weapons in my arsenal,... the supplements, cardio, weight training, protein shakes, journaling, and full spectrum lighting were all being out-gunned by the menopausal monster.

And I could barely get out of bed.

B'Man had tried giving me a stress relief spanking on Thursday morning, and as I lay across his lap taking the leather paddle, I could feel that this was not making a dent in my troubled psyche. I had gotten to the point where I was beyond this type of help, and for the first time in months, I began to worry about my emotional stability and feared that I was on my own.

He walked into the den on Friday morning as I sat at the computer, mindlessly surfing through nothing of any significance. "let's try this again," he said as he waved the paddle at me. For a moment I considered arguing with him, but he seemed determined and I was too weak physically and emotionally to put up a fight.

He placed a pillow on the arm of the couch in the den, and waited patiently for me to move. I rose to my feet and folded myself over the pillow as he moved my robe out of the way. The paddle came down softly at first as I heard him warn me "This is going to get a little intense, Baby."  Then he began a hard and fast rhythm as I sobbed into the pillow at my head.

And then it happened. The paddling stopped, and I heard something I never thought I'd hear. B'Man was unbuckling his belt and pulling it out of the loops of his pants. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..." I tried to lift myself up, but I felt him put his hand on my shoulder blade and push me back down. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him kneel beside me. "I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Trust you? Do you know what you're doing?

I nodded my head, closed my eyes and buried my face in the pillow. My worst spanking nightmare was coming true. I had tasted the belt only once before, and had vowed never to be in the place where it would rear it's ugly head again.  Now I was being asked to trust the man that held it in his hand.

If I can't trust him, who can I trust?  He'd never been one for gratuitously inflicting pain. He's dedicated himself to being my protector and my provider. There was clearly nothing he wouldn't do for me, he had proven that again and again.

So I didn't fight it. I lay as still as possible (which wasn't very still at all, but the best I could do) and submitted to probably the second most painful spanking I had ever had. When he was done, he enveloped me in his arms and waited patiently until I stopped hyperventilating.

The day went by with less anxiety.  I felt as though I could breathe, where before I was gasping desperately for every breath.   We've been spending the weekend exercising, attending holiday parties, eating out and basically making up for all time I had lost with my face buried in my hands.  I feel freed and back in control.  I also feel a bit more confused about the connection between this type of pain and the release of neurotransmitters in the brain.  I know I will never be able to bring myself to ask for this type of therapy, something that I admire my friends for being able to do when they need it... but I feel very blessed that I have someone looking out for me that knows when and how to use it effectively.

Trust you?  Yes.  I trust you to the depths of my very soul.