Pathetic...

...is probably the best word to describe my performance tonight. I had tried really hard to get myself into the right frame of mind, and I think I probably had done. However, once the caning started all that went right out the window. I stood up after practically every stroke. I cried. I thought I was going to be sick. After stroke five I stood up and flat out refused to get back down again for about 3 hours. Well, that's what it seemed like. It probably wasn't quite that long. George, to his eternal credit, did not lose it, as I'm sure I would have done if the situation had been reversed. I was being a complete pain, and probably deserved about 20 extras which he very kindly did not dispense tonight, though he really should have done.

I'm mostly just so angry with myself. Even when I was in the middle of kicking up a complete fuss, I was furious with myself for not just being able to bend back over and damn well get on with it. I really wish I knew why my reaction to pain varies so greatly. I know some of it is headspace, and some of it hormones, and some of it tiredness and goodness knows what else, but it's irritating (an understatement!) for me not to know how I'm going to react to a spanking from one day to the next, and I'm sure it must be endlessly frustrating for George. Eventually we did get through the 12 (though it probably took getting on for half an hour I was being such a baby...).

Later on, after I had calmed down a bit, we had a bit of a conversation about vocabulary. We agreed that submissive wasn't a good term for me, but I don't think we reached any conclusions as to what was... ah well, I'm me and that's all I need to know! We also had a discussion about the phrase he used when he linked to my blog from his: "Eliane is mine and will regularly send stroppy texts and emails for daring to suggest she is anything other than independent." I took great exception to this, obviously, so he said he was going to prove it to me, as I would get over his lap and be spanked when he asked me to. Again, obviously, I refused... I mean, come on, a girl has her pride. We tussled for a bit. He nearly won at one point but I managed to shoot myself off his knees and onto the floor. Now comes the part where he would claim he won the argument. Yes, I did get back over his lap, and yes I did let him spank me but *only* because he uttered the words "if you don't get over my lap I'll use the bathbrush on you". Seriously folks, that's just blackmail, isn't it?! Of course I got over his lap, I hate wood!! So, I'd just like to state for the record, that I'm mine and no one else's and I will continue to send stroppy emails and texts (and blog posts) to that effect, because sometimes it's about the principle of the thing!


(Oo, and the kink came back on Wednesday evening, thank goodness!)