He doesn’t have to make me

Last night, he asked me to wash my face, take my clothes off, get in the bed, and present. But when I came out of the bathroom, he was lying in the bed, listening to a message on his phone (I thought he was talking to someone). So I lay beside him, sort of slipped into the covers, figuring I’d present when he was ready.


I should have done what I was told to do. Regardless.

When He finished listening to his message, He asked me why I hadn’t complied. I stammered an inadequate excuse but let it die on my tongue. I knew I was in the wrong.

Because, if we are going to make this work…He shouldn’t have to make me. I should just do it.

He told me to “avert my gaze” as He opened the “toy drawer,” telling me He was getting out my “favorite” spoon – the one I hate so much (the threat of a spanking, of course). I braced myself, expecting it. But it didn’t come. He told me he wasn’t going to punish me…because we haven’t really worked that part of our contract out yet. He asked me if I felt like I was being treated like a child (a sticking point for me), but the funny thing is, I didn’t.

It might sound trite, but this time feels different. We’ve been down this road several times, and it’s never completely worked. Something’s always been off. Not quite right. And while we still have quite a bit of work to do, I find myself feeling excited to begin. There is a noticeable absence of resistance. A feeling of calm. I find myself (my selfish, childish self) thinking more about Him than me…more about what He wants and what would make Him happy. This isn’t just about me, after all. It’s about us and what we both need from each other. And He doesn’t have to make me His…I already am. It’s just been a rocky road admitting it, completely.

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