Like most moms, I put "taking care of the family" higher up on the priority list than "taking care of myself."
The kids get their routine, and non-routine, pediatric, dentist, orthodontist, audiologist, ophthalmologist, therapist (speech and occupational), and any other -ist or -ician visit on time and when needed. Husband takes care of his own visits, and schedules them as necessary.
Me, not so much.
Husband and I share many of the same services. We now have the same PCP, ophthalmologist, and dentist. In fact, now that I think about it, our whole family sees many of the same care-givers.
So when Husband went to the dentist a couple weeks ago, the office manager-slash secretary-slash gossip gatherer-slash appointment maker-slash friend, P, took it upon herself to let Husband know exactly how long it had been since I'd been in for a teeth cleaning.
"It's been two years," she said. "Your wife hasn't gotten a cleaning in two years. This is bad. Very bad. She needs to take care of her teeth. She brings the kids in like clockwork, but she doesn't make an appointment for herself." And then, from what I understand, she said the words that spelled out my doom:
"You are not making sure she takes care of herself."
I know, I know, she did not mean to censure him, and she certainly did not mean to get me into trouble. But instead of going on to work after his visit, Husband came home, found me upstairs on the computer, and immediately took off his belt.
"Against the bed," he said. "Now."
"What--what did I do? What's going on?" To say I was alarmed would be an understatement.
"The dentist's office just told me you haven't had a cleaning in two years. Two years. Since 2009."
Had it really been that long?
"It can't be two years already...They just called me to remind me to make an appointment--"
"Lady [He calls me Lady when he is particularly displeased with me] that was nine months ago. You were too busy for nine months to get your teeth checked out? No, I don't want you bent over like that. Take off your pants."
I pulled off my pants, trembling at this point. There had been no time for me to take in what he was saying, no time to tell him how embarrassed I felt for letting that much time go by, and no time to try to diffuse some of his anger.
The first blow of the belt cut right across both ass cheeks and whipped into my hip. It was clear, there would be no warm-up.
He got a good seven licks in before he finally began to tell me where his anger was really stemming from.
"You can get (smack!) an infection (smack!) by not taking care (smack!) of your gums. You can (smack!) lose your teeth (smack!). She asked me (smack!) why I don't (smack!) make sure (smack!) you take care (smack!) of yourself! (SMACK!)"
And then I realized: his anger was so great because it was laced with a heavy dose of guilt. The way he saw it, and has always seen it, part of his responsibility as my Dom is to take care of me, and part of his responsibility is to make sure I take care of myself. P, without realizing it, had implied he had failed in his duties as my Dom. And the reason why he was so upset was because he felt she was right.
"I'm sorry!" I wailed between licks of the belt. "I didn't realize how much time it was!" He ignored my pleas for understanding. The belt burned into my skin. I started to kick up my heels, and he simply aimed around my bobbing hips.
"I'm sorry!"I repeated. He swung the belt harder, and this time, he made sure the tip of the belt hit the same spot on my right cheek no less than three times. The pain was unbelievable. "I'll MAKE AN APPOINTMENT!" I screeched.
"Right now," he growled, finally standing up straight to weave the belt back into his pants. "Right now. I'm gonna listen to you do it. Go get the phone."
"Can I put some pants on first?"
"RIGHT NOW!"
So I grabbed the phone, called the dentist, and made myself an appointment for their first opening, which happened to be today. I did it sans pants. Of course they didn't know that, thank God. They also didn't know my poor bottom was welting, and taking on a color very similar to overripe strawberries.
Can I get myself into trouble by misbehaving, and warrant myself a good punishment? Yes, absolutely. And Husband punishes me particularly severely when he thinks he's been lax in his duties as my Dom. But that's NOTHING compared to what I have to go through when someone else implies He's been derelict in his duties.
Those are the times when I can't sit comfortably for three days.
This whole post? I wrote it with my laptop on the kitchen counter. I was standing up.
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