The Last Defenses Are Being Taken Down

My Dom has been taking a lot more power from me lately.

Not just new rules. New training. More commands. More micro-management. More follow-through. Harsher punishments. The commands he does gives are less general, more specific, and therefore more difficult.

Apparently, he has tired of listening to me complain that he wasn't following through and he has actually listened to my complaints and done something about them (darn him!). As he told me, "I realized you blame me for a lot of what goes wrong in our relationship. If I'm going to have the responsibility, then I want the power."

I can still hear me sputtering, "B-- b-- but--!"

Oh, it's what I said I wanted, all right. But it's scary to get it.

In the last few days, he has been more demanding of me. He has taken away my glasses when I wouldn't ask for them and say please and refused to let me get Kleenex when I was flouncing toward them, all attitude and hair-flip and mouth. Sound nit-picky? That's what I said. But he didn't give in.

He has assigned me a 600-word essay on the importance of honesty in our relationship when he caught me refusing to ask for something I needed. (I was practically humming about that one... it was way better than a spanking and actually made me think hard about what kind of person lies to her husband and if I want to be that person.) He has limited the amount of time I can spend working and stressing myself out and added to my punishment when I went over. He has refused to let me flounce away or flee to the bedroom during fights. He has been patient with my mood swings and attitude adjustments and patiently asked for forgiveness when he hurt my feelings or spoke too harshly. He has asked every day if I was doing my devotional and made sure to clarify what things I am to get done when he leaves for work. Basically, he's been very consistent and clear, forgiving when I had an attitude, and insisted on getting his way.

This has been going on for a couple of days in our household. If you were a fly on the wall, here are just some of the things you'd have heard come flying out of my mouth since then:

"You can't!"

"I'm a grown woman!"

"It's my job!"

"It's my body!"

"Don't you think this is a bit nit-picky?"

"You are being a controlling jerk! This is abusive!" (His response? "You are welcome to use your safeword at any time.")

"What next? Are you going to tell me what I can and can't wear and can't eat? Am I going to have to ask to go to the bathroom?"

And in my calmer, more logical moments, "But you said you didn't want to micro-manage me. This is definitely micro-management."

Pleading, foot-stamping, flouncing, testing, wheedling, using logic, even using the Bible... not a bit of it has gotten me any traction. But oh, how freedom struggles when she is shown the door.

You'd think I'd be overjoyed at getting what I wanted, but mostly I've responded the way I respond to any change in our relationship: with anxiety. Is this going to last? Does this mean the same thing to him it does to me? Does this make me a slave? Is he going to get busy or sidetracked or forget? Is he going to disappoint me? Did I really want this in the first place? Can I really let go of all this control? Who will I be if there are no areas left in my own control?

But even I have noticed the changes in my behavior.

"You're fighting me more," he told me today. "But you're also needier. You care more about my approval. You want it. That's a good thing."

I catch myself calling him to (*grimace of self-disgust*) ask his permission about things I wouldn't have a few days ago. I catch myself telling on myself when I haven't followed his instructions instead of just keeping my mouth shut like a smart woman.

But even more telling, I see myself doing what he tells me. I wrote that 600-word essay, except by the time I wrote it, it had been increased to 700 for another minor infraction. I did that devotional, even with my eyes half-closed with sleep. I said please and thank you more. I addressed him with a meeker tone that didn't sound much like the old me.

When we started to fight, I told him why I was angry instead of closing off and refusing to talk. When I started to gather my things and flee, a stern, "Don't leave," made me put them right back down and sit there and talk it out. What could have become hours of me sulking in bed with the lights off and doors locked was reduced to mere minutes of dealing with the problem together.

I even went to him, the cause of so much angst and worry and fighting-for-my-freedom, and crawled into his lap and cried and got cuddled and held. He kissed my forehead and smoothed my hair and told me he loved me. I cried about how scary this was and I didn't like it and why did he have to want so much control? He listened and kissed my hair and held me. He explained why he thinks this will be better for me. He understands my fears and says we will talk about them in a few weeks if they haven't gone away. He says, however, that I cannot opt out of this if my objections are coming from a place of fear instead of a place of true nonconsent.

So right now, I am left feeling scared... desired... a little resentful... confused... worried... and a little bit hopeful.