“Honey, I think I need a spanking.”
It was a blunt, ‘to-the-point’ statement rather than the cutsie, beat around the bush, hint-hint stuff I am usually known for with Randy. Then I looked directly into his eyes…..those enveloping, all-seeing, gorgeous blue eyes that have the power to penetrate to my….sorry dear reader, I tend to get lost when I think of his eyes and how they always make me feel. So, how did this come about? I can and will only speak for myself. The following may not be the way you are…but it IS me…me and Sir (TheRandyBeast).
I don’t call it “whining”, I call it “whimpering”. I cannot whine. It is not allowed. Our family’s “Eleventh Commandment: Thou Shalt Not Whine!” Whining implies that one is grumbling and extolling their misery on an ongoing basis again and again and again and again. It gets on my nerves real fast.….even my own whining. I’m a sub yet I want to go all hardcore Domme on a whiner. Yet how can I go hardcore Domme on myself? I can’t. Therefore I need Sir, TheRandyBeast, to fix me. I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
Although I call it a whimper today, I know I am on the brink of “The Eleventh”. I am stressed. I am tense. I cannot focus or concentrate. I start a project only to stop a short while later, leaving it half finished, which gives me a sense of failure. I inexplicably feel scattered to the four corners, incapable of any resolute action. I have a hard time making any sort of decision, large or small, important or insignificant. I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
My social life is at a standstill in every area. I do not want to interact, to talk, to share or even to help others, which has always been one of my driving forces. It is not that I am feeling selfish. It is not that I am anti-social. It is because I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
Like a small child, I forget to look before I cross the street. I find I sometimes scuff along as I walk and often do not pick my feet up high enough, therefore I have stumbled a few times when stepping up on a curb or over something. It is lack of attention, lack of focus. It is lack of incentive, lack of self-care. It is because I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
I have trouble falling asleep at night, regardless of how tired I may be. Insomnia has become my nightly bed partner. The few hours I actually do sleep each night are fitful, full of tossing and turning and disembodied dreams that I cannot fully remember. It is because I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
Soon I will be repaired…..mended and restored…..as good as new, probably better. I will be purged of my inconsistent expenditure of energy and will instead find myself with the pin-point accuracy of a laser. I will once again become steadfast and reliable in my efforts. My thoughts will be positive and channeled into productive ways. I will once again feel my womanly sensuality and sexuality and it will openly show as I walk with him. My steps will again be light and sure. My determination and dedication will grow by leaps and bounds.
Soon I will be repaired…..mended and restored…..as good as new, probably better. And all this will take is his touch, his attention, his actions, his love. Laid bare across the bed, sure in the knowledge that each resounding blow I feel and receive was given in the utmost of love, he will repair that which is broken. He will never do this in anger, in malice, in anything except love. He loves me enough to know I need this from time to time. And so, I am back at the beginning again….“Honey, I think I need a spanking.”