It is too early to be awake, let alone blog, and yet my body punishes itself for my actions of the previous night by refusing to enjoy a restful slumber. The amount of shame I feel borders on being too personal to share, and yet I have the distinct need to let it out. The idea of trying to contain it seems too big for me to handle in this lonesome moment. I don't even want to refer to him by his usual moniker, as I feel completely unworthy. Never have I wished so much for a discipline spanking.
As I try to get out of bed I am reminded of the night before when I feel the stinging sensation upon my knees. The fuzzy memories flood back, forcing me to relive the nightmare I was hoping would fade as the sun rose. But instead I have to face the reality of my actions as well as its possible consequences. And it's those consequences I so greatly fear.
To most people, what I did would be dismissed and simply excused- not a big deal, really. I've done much worse in my life, and yet there are few things I can remember feeling that literal hands-in-your-face shame. It's a sensation that took some time to define.
Like a band-aid, I'll tear through the night's events, making it as painless for me as possible (though an argument could be made that I deserve a little pain at this point, but I'll leave it up to him to dole that out, that is, if he's willing).
It all started off with a drink. An email was sent, then an exodus to the bar down the street, and then more wine was poured. Another email was sent. I'm well aware he's working and yet I selfishly take up his time spank grubbing. My glass of pinot noir gets refilled time and time again. He finally agrees to meet me. I try my best to leave the bar, but it's packed and service is slow. My friends are distracted by celebrity sightings. I feign interest, snap some pictures for them and my mind is trying its hardest to focus on my single goal. We walk back to our cars. On the way back I break a heel, tumble into the street, onto my knees. Completely embarrassed, I get myself together and scurry as fast as I can.
He had waited 20 minutes and I missed him by 10.
I closed my eyes and rested my head, disappointed. I send an email but clearly the moment has passed. I dozed off for a little bit. I abruptly woke up in horror as to what just happened, my childish behavior, the things I wrote, the missed appointment. Immediately I send yet another email, this one apologizing for my actions. I wished I wrote it with more clarity-perhaps after a night's rest. But I didn't, and what is done is done.
Spanking is such a pleasurable sensation for me, and yet I woke up today wanting for Tuesday to bring me none of that. I had this urge and longing for him to punish me, reform me, forgive me. I can't imagine a pain greater than this feeling of disappointing him and clearly providing the evidence that I'm broken and unworthy of his attention, something I've been well aware of for some time now.
TL;DR: When drinking, hide your phone.