The start of the year

The good news is that His mother is doing well. There were battles last night with medical professionals who wanted to release her from the hospital just barely 24 hours after surgery to repair the broken hip... In the end, they saw it His way. T and I were not surprised.

We spent the night together, all of us, in the big bed. It is something we rarely do. We bought the big, king-size bed, early in our poly life together, for precisely that reason -- so that we could sleep 3-in-a-bed. It is a most basic poly question: who sleeps where and with whom and when and how? And if we all want to sleep together, how can that be done? Just try and find bedroom furniture to accommodate that. Go ahead. I defy you to figure it out. The best we could come up with was a king-size bed with a nice bookcase style headboard so that the person in the middle would have a place to put a glass or whatever. Still, when we sleep together in it, we find we are seldom actually comfortable. It really isn't about the size of the bed so much as it is that our various sleeping styles aren't really compatible. The three of us tend to snuggle and snore and thrash in radically different patterns. One night together (every so ofter) like last night has left us vowing that it won't happen again anytime soon... Show me a poly bunch wondering about sleeping 3-in-a-bed and I'll show you a brand new, still in the throes of poly starry-eyed newbie impracticality.

I guess the thing that is weighing most heavily on my mind, and the thing that is hardest for me to talk straight about, is spanking and my response to it. I seem to have lost my ability to respond to it as anything sexually stimulating. It has become, for me, something I submit to because it is part of my place and my love for the Heretic. I don't enjoy it and I don't like it and, often, I struggle not to slip into anger and resentment around it.

Today, was a case in point. I was paddled. Not severely. He modified what He might have done rather significantly, actually. Left my leggings on and even left my butt covered with a light down throw that we keep on the bed. He did use an Ash wood paddle that He knows just freaks me out, but I managed to keep it together. As usual, I was required to ask for the paddling, and unlike most times, I was required to count strokes and thank Him for each one. Twelve. Not extreme, but it was massive in my head. "Thank you, Sir" wanted desperately to transform itself into something far more disrespectful and vulgar.

The sheer rage and anger I am finding at the edges of my submission scare me. I don't know where it is coming from. I'm not sure if it is because I've lost the sexy part of this. Part of me wonders if I've withdrawn the sexy part somehow because I'm angry. Could that possibly be? I'm not aware of that consciously but the fact that the question is there makes me wonder.

I don't know the answer. I do know that if that's what is going on, it is backfiring. He's probably even more turned on by my struggle and my dislike of the spankings. I'm the only one who is losing in this deal. Somehow I've got to find the path back to joyful masochism. I know it is here in the dark somewhere...

swan