Acceptance – "It’s ok, I’ve got you."
When you think of acceptance, usually what comes to mind is the act of either being accepted by others or you accepting others who may or may not be different from yourself.
Suddenly I’m not sure if I’ve made the right choice. A wave of fear washes over me and I’m about to get up and tell him to forget about the whole thing when his hand moves to my back, pushing gently but firmly and keeping me in position over his knee.
“It’s ok, I’ve got you.”
It should be illegal to have a voice that sexy. That was my first thought on meeting Mr Matthew Holder four and a half years ago. Actually that’s a lie, my first thought was ‘What an arrogant, pompous ass!’. To be fair to him I had arrived in the middle of a rant against the state of British tennis, a sore topic for a man who once dreamed of Grand Slam finals. I later discovered him to be one of the humblest, kindest men I’ve ever met and the love of my life, a far cry from my first impression but at least I was right about the voice.
I still can’t quite believe my luck. It’s hard to comprehend how I, indecisive, disorganised and ever so slightly loopy, managed to ensnare this beautiful man, but I guess the world works in mysterious ways. Two and half years into marriage and I’m still crazy in love with him, to the point where it’s almost embarassing and as far I can tell he feels the same about me. Wonders will never cease.
However, there is one rotten apple in our basket of bliss.
The sex is ok. Just ok.
Now, I know you can’t have everything in life but I just don’t understand it. It’s not like he’s awful or inexperienced or anything and he usually makes sure that I cum, but it’s like something’s missing. It’s almost as though he’s holding himself back. If I’m honest so am I but I’d hoped that I would be able to please him without needing to express the part of me that I try so hard to pretend doesn’t even exist. I love him too much to risk losing him because of something stupid like a fantasy.
That used to be my mantra anyway. I don’t really know how I got to this point, I think the champagne cocktails Matt kept ordering for me last night may have had something to do with it. It was my birthday and he took me out on the town to celebrate, stating that I deserved a bit of glamour and fun. There was plenty of both up until the moment he started asking about my fantasies. I’d been sober every other time we’d had this conversation and I’d managed to fob him off with some creative bullshit about candles and rose petals. I thought I’d convinced him until I saw the look in his eyes, clear as day even through my champagne induced haze. He was using my inebriation to get his own way and if I hadn’t been so impressed by his plotting I might have been angry.
As it was I simply assured him that I knew his game and that no matter how drunk he got me I wasn’t going to tell him anything about the spanking thing.
Yes, bring me all your secrets everybody, I’m unbreakable. Except when a little tipsy and confused, in which instance I crack like an egg. So much for my pride.
I don’t really remember much about the rest of the night, but I do know that, unfortunately, it wasn’t a dream. After a long morning in bed recovering and lots of tea and nurofen, Matt brought up my drunken confession. I tried to brush it of as a joke but he just stared me down and eventually I quietened.
“It’s ok. Look at me. Do I look like someone who’s freaking out because his wife’s confessed she’s a little kinky?”
I rolled my eyes but then couldn’t resist sneaking a peak at him. He actually looked radiant, can you say that about men? He looked calm and excited all at once and in a split second it occurred to me that this might turn out to be a good thing. A moment later my self doubt was back but I felt brave enough to at least talk about it and maybe even be a little honest.
“No, but you’re so nice you would probably be ok with anything I said and I couldn’t bear it if you did something just because you thought I would like it” I was proud at how mature I sounded and expected him to be blown away by my clear thinking logic and selflessness.
“Ok, first of all what the hell is wrong with wanting to do something just because it would make my wife happy, and secondly, how do you know you’d be the only one enjoying it?”
Pardon the cliche, but my jaw literally fell open.
His eyes twinkled knowingly at my reaction but he carried on regardless. “How do you know it wasn’t exactly what I was hoping you’d say? You have to stop making assumptions about me and what I think, you know me pretty well but sometimes you can hit completely off the mark.”
My mind was so thrown by this new development that self-censure went out the proverbial window, “You mean you want to spank me?!”, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to say yes or no. Luckily I didn’t have too much time to ponder.
“And much more besides.”
Well, this was a turn up for the books!
After even more tea and a long, agonisingly frank discussion about the finer details of our mutual desires and fantasies, I suddenly found myself bent over Matt’s knee with my knickers round my ankles and my arse naked and exposed. I was a little shocked at how simultaneously embarassed and turned on I was, I didn’t know whether to laugh or start humping his leg, but in the end I just lay there, waiting to see what would happen next.
As I waited my mind went into overdrive. Would he regret this afterwards? Would I regret it? How much would it hurt? Was I just being ridiculous, did I really want to be spanked for God’s sake, I wasn’t a child! Would he know when to stop? Would I want him to?
I was suddenly overwhelmed by all my fears and doubts and I went to stand up. It wasn’t too late, we could still brush the whole thing off and get back to our happy, normal, safe life and everything would be ok.
“It’s ok, I’ve got you.”
While still the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard (bar perhaps Johnny Depp) there was a strength and confidence in it that I would have sworn wasn’t there before and somehow it did feel ok. I loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone and I trusted him with my heart, but the warmth and comfort coming from his hand on my back, the hard, solid feel of his legs beneath my body and the calm assurance and control in his voice gave me the courage to trust him with my body and maybe even with my soul.
My acceptance must have shown itself in the release of tension in my body as Matt reacted as though I’d spoken my thoughts out loud.
“Well done, you know I’ve got you. Just relax and open yourself up to me. I promise I won’t go further than you can take, you just have to trust me.”
“I do trust you”
“Good, now I’m going to start slowly and build up so be prepared. You may cry out if you need to and in fact I want you to, I don’t want you to try and hide your emotions, ok?”
“I want you to think of a word and if you really want me to stop for any reason I want you to say it. You will be punished if you use it prematurely but equally you will be punished if you don’t say it when you should. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”, I had no idea what he meant by ‘punished’ but my pussy was certainly intrigued and I couldn’t stop the frisson of excitement his words caused from making me shiver with desire. I forced my mind back to the serious issue of a safe word. I’d read about such things but had never really believed that I’d ever have to come up with one myself. I knew it had to be memorable and completely innocuous so as not to be misunderstood, but I also wanted it to be meaningful and unique to us.
It was almost too obvious but I knew he would get the double meaning.
There was a pause in which my heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest, and then I felt the palm of his hand make contact with my ass for the first time. It was surprisingly real. I’m not entirely sure what I’d imagined but somehow the difference between fantasy and reality is the physicality of it, every sense alive with excitement and expectancy.
As promised he build up the spanks steadily, increasing the speed and intensity until I was gasping with every hit. It didn’t hurt exactly, at least not at first. It more like an overload of sensation, and the intimacy of the moment almost overwhelmed me. I felt so exposed, so vulnerable that I was surprised to realise that I was close to using my safe word. I had assumed that it would be the pain that would be my weakness, but I enjoyed the physical sensations of the spankings. The emotions it brought up in me were much harder to take.
As it went on the feelings of self doubt and fear seemed to bubble up inside me and I couldn’t keep them down. I was shaking as the spanks got harder and harder. I welcomed the pain but I feared the emotions, I daren’t let them free or he would see it all and that would be too much to bear. So I kept my mouth shut and tried my hardest to fight it, to fight the serenity of release that was beckoning me. I had wanted this for so long but now I was here I couldn’t do it. I hadn’t understood how much it would cost me or how much I would risk and I wished I could take it all back.
I fought and fought and fought until I had nothing left to give and I broke. If I could have spoken I would have said my safe word, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work. There was nothing left for me to do except to wait for the rejection that I knew would come.
Through all of my inner turmoil the spanks continued and now that I’d stopped fighting it I embraced the rhythm, the steady beat of his hand on my arse. I let myself sink into it and I found a peace that I’m not sure I’d ever felt before. I seemed to float on a sea of sensation and I allowed myself a moment of calm before the inevitable storm.
Suddenly it stopped. It took me a second to realise that something had changed. Keeping me on his lap Matt tilted my head up towards him, allowing my body to shift round slightly. I tried to avoid his eyes, unwilling to share this one last part of myself. As usual though his patience won out and I couldn’t resist looking up at him. I have never felt so exposed, so known. I waited for the blow, the cutting remark or mocking word that would slice through my heart like a knife, not knowing how I would ever recover from this and swearing never to drink again, I clearly needed to be sober to keep myself safe.
“I love you.”
What? I must have looked confused as Matt chuckled gently. “Why is it always so hard for you to believe? I’d think you had a hard childhood but your parents are wonderful and I know they always told you they loved you.”
“Do you know what, I thinks it’s because you don’t love yourself.”
“What? What are you talking about?” love myself, what on earth did he mean? I’m not arrogant, I know my own failings.
“You don’t think anyone could see you, really see you, see into your very soul, see you at your must vulnerable, when you hate yourself the most and still love you. But I do. I see you, all of you and I love it. I love you.”
I’m not usually good at emotional moments, I do my best to diffuse them with humour, but looking up at him from his lap, his hand resting comfortingly on my bare ass, I just couldn’t do it.
My voice broke as I replied, “Thank you, thank you so much. I love you too. And I’m sorry.” Suddenly all the emotion that I couldn’t release during the spanking broke free and Matt pulled me up into his arms, holding me close. I felt exposed, and vulnerable and known and my ass was going to be sore for a few days but I was loved and that made it all ok. I held on tighter as I imagined what my life would be like if I hadn’t met him, and I sobbed into his chest.
“It’s ok, I’ve got you.”
And he did, he had all of me, for as long as he wanted.