Keepers of the Gloom

Yes, mouse has been a gloomy girl lately and it's no wonder at all, since life feels disjointed. Sir has reminded mouse more than once this isn't a permanent thing, but rather temporary.  It just doesn't help her soulful mood at times.  It's equally difficult to not want to become the yappy dog demanding attention. Why is it that the squeaky wheel gets the grease?  Because it squeaks and has become annoying.  

Not at all sure or certain what mouse thought moving back would change...

The thing is that she doesn't want to be this needy girl wanting his attention. 

Last night mouse threw a hissy fit and it was directed more or less at Sir -- and it wasn't his fault in the least.  Dinner was ready and he was late, and it happens more often than not lately.  He made an innocent comment that the chicken was a little dry, and mouse lost it.  "Well, it wouldn't have been dry had you come home when you said." Now it could be noted that mouse is sensitive about her cooking and feels incredibly vulnerable for some reason that she can't quite put into words.  

He said nothing in reply but continued eating his meal.  That made mouse feel worse (as if that's even possible).  

It's not like she didn't know where he was, or why he was late getting home -- he was doing what he does each evening, he was at the hospital siting beside the bed of a loved one.  It's just that she craves the predictable life we once shared.  

It's also hard at times for mouse to just say she's sorry.  Yes, when she really screws up, then it's easy to say she's sorry but over things like this, it's painfully difficult to just say, "sorry Master." to him.  

Later that evening Sir said it was time for bed, and when mouse didn't immediately switch the television off, he raised his voice slightly and said in a cold tone, "Now." Still mouse lingered downstairs, pretending to check to see the dishwasher was loaded (we run it at bedtime), which it was and the kitchen was tidy.  Paused by the laundry room to make sure the washer was ready for the morning load...finally making her way to the bedroom.

Sir was waiting, seated on the chaise lounge and looking at mouse.

"Undress.  Over my knee." he said in almost a matter of fact tone.  His belt was in his hand, doubled.  No warming up, just ten hard whacks that left mouse breathless and stubborn.

Then followed by another five, and another until mouse broke and cried for mercy, but he continued for another five.

"How does it feel?"

Slipping to the floor mouse knelt at his feet, but didn't know what to say, just looked up at him and slightly gave her head a slight shake of uncertainty.

Physically it hurt, mentally it felt good...but not...

"Go wash your face and brush your teeth."

He followed mouse into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and watched mouse do her bedtime routine. When he found her kneeling beside the bed when he came out, he commented, "good girl." Then he called her to enter it and we spoke a little about the punishment and how he believed it couldn't wait.  Sir wanted to know if mouse understood why.  Now, for some reason mouse can't begin to fathom she made a crack about the chicken being dry.

Oh dear.  Sometimes mouse understands that he's under a lot of stress right now, but her mouth doesn't seem to get it.  Maybe it's just that she feels terrible and wants him to feel bad too?  Of course she forgets he already feels bad.  He sat up in bed and pulled mouse over his knee again, which was awkward, and gave her bottom several slaps.  Again refusing for some ungodly reason to just give up, mouse just remained motionless.  Why was she pushing him this hard???

Still cannot explain it.

He moved mouse aside, disappeared for several minutes and returned.  He told mouse to bend over the bed so that her head and arms were on the floor but her legs and rear were over the side and on the bed.  Holding herself up with her arms, she felt the cane and then she couldn't make sound but tears were welling faster than the welts could rise.  Then he tossed the cane on the floor and mouse slid awkwardly off the bed.  Sir handed her a blanket.

Sir rolled over, and heard mouse's sniffles and whimpers but harshly said something like if she couldn't shut up go sleep elsewhere.

"Sorry Sir."

Too late he was either asleep or ignoring her.

Guilty as charged for being a brat.

If Sir is still angry this morning he didn't really show it.  He did refuse his morning oral, but he also overslept a little (so did mouse).  It's not often that mouse behaves so poorly.  This was terrible.

Anytime she sits now she's reminded of her mouth...and how she doesn't need to express each and every thought the moment she has it.  The whole point of moving back was to help diminish his stresses not make them worse or add to them.  It's just terrible and her own behavior isn't helping at all.