Daniel's Diary, Entry 01

It's almost 7:00. I'm standing at the kitchen counter, writing this and watching for Rachel to come back up from the barn. She has the lights on down there, so she might be a while yet; I don't know if that's good or bad. I want her to come up so we can talk; that's another thing we need to get over with. But another part of me wants her to take her time, because I'm just not sure what to say, or how to say it, or how to act, or what she's going to do or say ... So much shit in my head, and in my heart, that I don't know whether to shit or go blind. I'm kind of in a limbo right now. I mean, I asked for this. That's what's freaking me out so bad.

Yeah, I said I'm standing at the counter to write this, instead of sitting like a normal person at the table or somewhere. Standing, because I sure as hell don't want to SIT. Nope ... not for at least a day, I guess. Maybe longer. Who knows?! I've never been through this, so I don't know how long the effects are going to last.

I can't write this without being embarrassed, even though I'm alone. My face has to be as red as my ass, right now. Shit. Deep breath. Here goes ...

Rachel punished me this afternoon. There ... I said it. And I'm squirming in my socks, too.

It was the first time for us -- and the first time ever for me. That makes it a very big deal. I'm completely amazed, awestruck, overwhelmed and any other huge adverb you want to put in here. Yeah, a VERY big deal. Not in a "bad" way, really ... I just don't know how to DEAL with everything. Seems like there's so much going through my mind right now ... conflicting things, like "You're 34 years old, and you let your girlfriend bust your ass!" And then there's "You're 34 years old, and you LOVED getting your ass busted by your girlfriend!" And also there's "You're 34 years old, and I wonder what your girlfriend is thinking about busting your ass?" Shit!!!!!!!!! Shitshitshit!!!!!!! I'm fucking shattered by this ... Part of me wishing it had never happened, that I had never allowed it to happen, that I'd never fucking ASKED for it to be this way! And another part of me thinking, Man, you have got the best trip in the universe going on right now!!! Wondering what Rachel's thinking right now, too. Maybe that's my biggest worry ... what she's thinking and feeling, because I sure don't want this relationship to be fucked up. She's everything to me, and I don't even want to think for a second about being without her. FUCK!!

It's been 6 weeks since she slapped my face down at Billy's and claimed me ... but that's the only time she's ever raised a hand, or anything else, to me. We've just been going along, getting to know each other, finding our routines, blahblahyadda ... you know, normal, typical new relationship stuff. And it's been the best ever for me. No one compares to Rachel in any way, nobody ever made me feel the way she does. She's definitely incredible, all the way around, and I'm completely crazy about her. She's so amazing; I just don't have words, or maybe there are too many words to describe her and what she does to me.

But this is a little out of the ordinary kind of relationship, in that it's supposed to be "Dom/Sub", in a way that's not black leather and rubber and, well, scary. I mean, I went into this eyes open, knowing from before ever she said yes, she'd have me, that SHE was the BOSS. According to the agreement, I'm to honor and OBEY, you know? If she says it, then that's the way it is, no arguments. Rachel has the final word. She's the LAW. We're to take care of each other, like in any relationship, but she's definitely the "top" in this one, and I'm ... NOT. If I don't do what she says to do or not to do, if I don't do what she wants me to do or not to do, then she has the right, by my agreement, to "inflict corporal punishment upon me". That's the deal. I don't know why I thought she'd be beating my ass every other day from the git-go, but I've been expecting some kind of ... discipline ... almost since the beginning, and it hasn't happened until today.

I've gotta admit, that was making me a little antsy. OK, so more than a little. It was like some kind of itchy anticipation thing that was starting to drive me nuts, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wanted to get the first time over with, since I figured that would be the hardest. You know, can I REALLY do this? Can I really OBEY her? And take the consequences when I DON'T? So for the last week or so, I've been pushing it. Pushing her. Finding out where the lines are, I guess. I've been a smartass on several occasions. Been late a couple of times without calling. Not huge stuff, 'cause I truly didn't know if I had the balls to REALLY find out, you know? We sure haven't had any fights or arguments. But yeah, I've been egging this shit on. And I could tell a couple of times that I was getting to her. But she still wouldn't DO anything. I was frustrated with it NOT happening, and at the same time scared that it WOULD.

This morning, I don't know what the hell happened in my idiot brain, but when she told me she had to go to Asheville to pick up some stuff and take care of some business, and she needed me to stay close to the house because she was expecting a package from FedEx, well, I said sure, no problem ... knowing all the time that I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't be here to accept that package for her. And then we'd see what happened when she got home. I saddled up and headed for the top of the mountain, took the scenic route, so to speak, and missed the delivery. They left a card in the door, saying she could pick it up at the warehouse -- in Asheville, of course, a good hour away -- tomorrow.

She was waiting for me when I got home. Thank God I took a leak in the barn after I put my horse up, because the look on her face was enough to make me want to piss right down my leg. I was IN FOR IT. I'd finally crossed the line to the point that Rachel couldn't overlook it or ignore it any more. I left her no choice but to point out, in no uncertain terms, just who was the BOSS.

I must have been fucking CRAZY!!!

She was so cool, it was terrifying. All business, real calm. No yelling. No cussing. Just ... implacably determined. She chilled my blood. The whole scene just totally paralyzed me, twisted my guts in knots. My insides were quivering, and I swear I could hear my knees knocking. I was shaking. Fight or flight, and I knew what I wanted was to FLEE! The wildest thing about it was, at the same time, I was so turned on that I could hardly stand up straight. No shit. Rock hard and throbbing.

Anyway, she was in the kitchen when I came up. Sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, with that damned card on the table in front of her. And she just LOOKED at me, when I came in the door. That look, so calm and cool, stopped me in my tracks. Literally. I got about 3 steps in the door, and then I just couldn't move.

She didn't ask me where I'd been. That wasn't the important thing. What she asked me, was this: "Did I tell you to stay close to the house while I was gone today?"

My mouth dried up like I'd sucked a persimmon. I just nodded, and when she raised that eyebrow of hers, making me feel like a kid caught eating cookies before supper, I kind of choked out, "Yes, ma'am." What the hell else should I have said? Inside, I'm cussing my stupid self for every kind of idiot, and all I could do was meekly say, "Yes, ma'am" to the woman who I knew intended to SPANK me! She nodded. Her expression never changed a bit. Then she asked me if I remembered WHY she'd asked me to stay close. I had to choke out that it was because she needed me to accept a package for her.

She just nodded again. Put her cigarette out. Took a sip of coffee. I'll never forget any of this. Then she looked me dead in the eyes and said, still so calm: I hate leaving my mountain. Hate driving in to Asheville. I was just there today, and I would have liked to have had you with me, but I needed you to stay home. Now, I'm going to have to change ALL of my plans for tomorrow and drive in again, because you didn't do what I told you I needed you to do for me. You won't be going with me tomorrow, either, because you won't be able to sit down for the ride there and back."

She stood up, never breaking eye contact, and gestured to the door into the hall. Said, "Let's go, Daniel. Upstairs. To your room."

I don't remember ever being so scared in my life. I actually took a step back from her, which is ludicrous, as she's nearly a foot shorter and almost a 80 pounds lighter than me. I could feel the blood rush out of my head, got a little dizzy for a second. And then the next thing I knew, I was moving forward, slowly, but moving, and I walked past her, into the hall and up the stairs. To MY room, the bedroom I'd slept in when I first came here, before I started spending my nights in her bed, with her. I don't know how I managed to walk up all those stairs on legs that wobbled like overcooked spaghetti, but I did it.

When we got inside the bedroom and she shut the door, I remember saying her name. Rachel. I don't know if I was intending to try to talk my way out of it, out of what I knew was coming, or what. But she wasn't having any. She just shook her head. Told me not to say a word, that I'd been cruising for this for a while, and it WAS going to happen, right now. Then she told me to get out of my jeans and get down over the side of the bed.

I felt like I had ice water in my veins. I was freezing cold, shaking, scared to death. Man, this was going to fucking HURT, and I'd brought it on myself! STUPID!!! And the humiliation! I'm 34, not 4! And my woman was going to spank me like a kid!! I turned toward but not all the way facing the bed, enough that I could see her over my shoulder, like, and with my face burning off my skull with embarrassment, I toed off my boots and unzipped and shed my jeans. She took my belt, that plain black leather belt I always wear just to kick around in, out of the loops; I'll never forget the sound of it sliding out of there. Worse than hearing a rattlesnake you can't see. MY belt. She was going to use MY belt. I'll think of that every fucking time I put it on, forever. Maybe that was the reason she used it, so I'd remember. Like I could ever forget?!

She took me by the arm, right above my elbow, not rough, but FIRM, you know, and turned me the rest of the way around. I just couldn't move, myself. Then she put her hand in the small of my back, and just real easy but steady, pushed me forward. It took everything I had to bend over that bed. It was like every single nerve ending was magnified a million times; I could almost feel every single fiber in the bedspread against my chest and belly. And hardon. I was so hard -- THAT really freaked me out. How the hell can a guy be this turned on by something so damned crazy?! But I was. Scared out of my fucking mind, but close to coming.

She told me she didn't care if I yelled loud enough for them to hear me in town, but I was to keep my hands in front of me and not try to get up till she was through. Asked me if I heard her. All I could do was say "Yes, ma'am", again. Dumb shit!! "Yes, ma'am"!! And then she started in, and I didn't think she'd ever stop. It went on for fucking ever. I'd been fighting not to cry before she even hit me the first time, but let me tell you, since I'm spilling my guts, that I bawled like a baby. I was yelling, crying, begging, all at the top of my lungs, kicking and squirming all over the side of that bed, before she finally decided I'd had enough. I wouldn't be surprised at all to find out that they DID hear me in town! For such a little thing, she sure has a strong arm, and she literally wore my bare ass out. My backside and the backs of my legs were BURNING a long time before she ever quit, I mean, on fucking FIRE. Just stripes of flame, all over my butt and thighs. I couldn't be still. Couldn't quit crying. I'd about ripped the covers off the other side of the bed, had them bunched up in my hands in a death grip. I'd never felt anything so damned painful, ever. But I stayed down, and I didn't put my hands back, just like she told me. I'd made it through. And yeah, I still had my woodie going on. Harder than I've ever been in my life. Fucking crazy. I'm hard right now, just thinking about it, writing about it.

Anyway ... when she was done with my strapping, she didn't say a word. She just threw my belt down on top of my jeans, and left the room. Didn't shut the door, just walked out and left me there. I think that hurt me worse than the spanking had. I wanted her ... to kiss me and forgive me, and make it better, I guess. Wanted it all to be over with. Wanted to make love to her. I crawled up onto that bed, bawled myself almost sick. I was slubbing like a little kid, holding one of those pillows to me. I guess I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, it was almost 5; The Event had been around 2:30, so I guess I had passed out a little while. My butt was still burning, but not quite so intensely as it had right after. Tender to the touch ... VERY tender. I tried to roll over onto my back, just to SEE, you know. REAL QUICK, I got back onto my belly. NOT a good idea to roll over. NOT a good idea to even THINK about sitting up. Nope. She was right; I wouldn't be making any trips to Asheville with her. I'd never be able to take sitting for that long, both ways.

And I was still heartsick that she hadn't stayed with me, until I realized that I was covered up with one of those soft silk throws she likes so much. She'd come back to check on me, while I was sleeping, and had covered me up. Tucked me in, so to speak. That was so cool that I cried again, just a little. I finally pulled it together enough to roll out of the bed. Went to the bathroom, took a look over my shoulder in the mirror. Pretty stripes on my lily white ass! Nice and red, with a faint undertone of blue. I'd have a few bruises, no doubt about that. I dicked around a while upstairs, but then I had to go down, see if she was there. I'm wearing my oldest, softest pair of sweats; that's all I can stand against my skin. Even walking hurts, so I've been standing here in this same spot for the last hour, now, waiting for Rachel to come back to the house.

I wonder what she's doing down there? Is she still mad? Avoiding me? Does she regret taking me on, this relationship on? Is it over, now? Come on, Rachel! Please, don't leave me hanging like this any longer. I'm about sick up here! Sick, and hurting, and I just ... need you.