Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

The Wrong Kind of Right

Sir’s surgery went well.  He seemed to be feeling okay when we got home. I talked with him during dinner about sleeping downstairs on the couch so he could stretch out on the bed, but he assured me that he was fine. After dinner he went upstairs to rest and my mother-in-law and I wrangled children until bedtime. This included a rather pathetic (and I’m sure humorous) attempt at the two of us playing a Wii game with my 4 year-old laughing at our repeated failures. The things we do for our children.

During a spirited game of Trouble a while later I received a text message:

You will sleep on the floor of my bedroom, after performing for me.

I responded with a ‘More than happy to Sir,’ and tried to remain calm as I lost miserably to that same 4 year-old. To say I was excited would be an understatement. After my post on missing the floor and some of the control aspects that came with it, I have continued to reflect on my goals for our continued D/s. This step was huge for him and I was positively gleeful.

As I closed up the downstairs for the night I grabbed an extra comforter for padding, checked all the doors were locked, and headed upstairs. The kids had gone to bed without much fuss. Having Grandma here to help makes a big difference. The dog had already claimed her space near Sir’s closet. She watched me lay out the comforter on the floor on Sir’s side of the bed, then curled up on her own blanket, and was snoring before I turned out the light.

Sir was already in bed, but put his computer away and took his pain meds to help him sleep. He walked around to where I was kneeling on my pallet. Grabbing my hair he thanked me for being such a help today. He appreciated my care and dealing with kids. Releasing me, he told me to lay down. The side light was turned off and he was snoring in almost no time.

I’ll admit I was a little disappointed not to have been able to ‘perform’ in whatever capacity he had intended. But, considering his day, I knew he must have been exhausted. I couldn’t blame him. I lay down on the blanket and tried to sleep.

And tried…and tried…and failed.

First, and probably foremost, the floor was exceedingly uncomfortable. I know you’re thinking, ‘Duh Rye, what did you expect?’. But I was honestly surprised. Our other home had incredibly comfortable floors. And I can’t believe that it was made all that different simply by the carpet pad and carpet. The other possibility is that the comforter I chose for padding was bad. Previously, I think I had used one of our thicker duvets, which probably would have provided more of a barrier between me and the hardwood.

No matter which way I turned I couldn’t get comfortable. My hips hurt when I lay on my side. My back ached when I tried to lay on my back. I tried to think of it as hurting for him, but that didn’t seem to make any difference.

Then, of course, there was everything going on in my head. Everything that needs to get done today and how crazy our schedule it. I am taking one child to school this morning. The toddler has a doctor appointment, so I will come back and get him for that. Then he will get dropped off at school and I will go to work. Then Grandma is picking them up from school and taking them to her house for the weekend. When I get off work I am coming home to check on Sir and then driving to my parents house for one night, maybe two, to help them move. And my over-active worry brain wanted to have every second of that mess planned out before it let me sleep.

Finally, I realized that while I could hardly hush my brain, I could attempt to make myself more comfortable. It would just require me to do something I really didn’t want to do. I had to wake up Sir. It took me probably whispering his name five or ten times before I raised my voice enough to rouse him. I asked if I could please crawl into his bed with him. He shifted over and I climbed up. Curling his arm around my stomach he pulled me into him and began snoring again. I was glad I hadn’t woken him for too long.

So, now comfortable, I focused on trying to quiet my maniacal brain. However, now I had something else to chew on. After writing and talking about wanting more control and how much I had missed sleeping on the floor for him, I couldn’t even make it through one night. Laying awake for five hours on the floor didn’t count. All I have talked about with him in regards to our D/s was how much more control I craved. More restriction, more oversight. And the first time he offers me a carrot I spit it back out at him.

I am just bummed that it didn’t go better. If could’ve slept and showed him how much I appreciated his gesture maybe it could become a more regular occurrence. And I don’t think that this necessarily negates that option, but I know he will think hard before doing it again. The idea of me not sleeping, even in my happy place, isn’t pleasant for him. In order to keep his house moving and everyone happy, I need sleep. He knows this. Hopefully next time I will remember to try another mat and hopefully that will change the comfort level enough to fall asleep. Not having such a crazy day before and further hectic day ahead may make a difference as well. Though my brain is not one for being predictable; even for me.

I laid in his bed for another half hour or so before just getting up. I’m currently writing this from the couch downstairs. I may try to get some more sleep down here, but most likely will try and clean the kitchen or something else productive. When life gives you lemons and all that.

3 Responses to “The Wrong Kind of Right”

  • ancilla ksst

    Healing wishes for him!

  • Tamar

    Sometimes the fantasy is way better in your head than the reality put into practice. This is a lesson I’ve learned over and over again, and one you seem to be learning as well but I wish you were able to learn it without the level of self-blame and recrimination you seem to be experiencing. “Of course the hardwood floor was impossible to sleep on”, nothing wrong with learning that! And nothing wrong with what you did- asking to get back in the bed- in fact, that was the smart thing to do! If you’d laid there all night, in pain, unhappy, unable to sleep- you’d have been miserable, and I’m pretty sure your hubby wouldn’t have been very happy either. You made the right call, the smart call, and he welcomed you back in bed with an arm around you. Beautiful! A learning experience- if sleeping on the floor is that important to you, you and he can discuss options, maybe getting a thick rug for that side of the bed? A pallet? And try it out beforehand to make sure it’ll work. Or you can work together to brainstorm alternative options for giving you that subby tingle. But good on him for making the effort! Don’t beat yourself up- you got what you wanted, it just wasn’t what you thought it would be and that’s ok. It wasn’t a failure. It wasn’t “throwing it back in his face”. It was a simple fact that a hardwood floor is hard for anyone to sleep on! Celebrate the fact that you’re working together instead of focusing on things being just exactly perfectly like your fantasies and getting upset when they’re not. There is much more positive here than negative.

    • Rye

      That is a wonderful way to look at it. And I really appreciate the support. I think I just get really into my own head with anything relating to D/s. And I was so happy and appreciative that he took that initial step.

      I think we will look to see if we can find a better blanket or pallet that we slide under the bed during the day. And even if it’s only something we use once a week, he knows that would mean the world to me.

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