Corner Time and Follow-Up to the Eye-Punch Confrontation

I’m sure my eight readers would much rather read stories about my job and the kinky clients I run in to at work, but my relationship with The Collector is so bizarre that I felt compelled to write about it again.

Sometimes I’m paranoid about whether he’s reading this.  He would recognize himself immediately.  I tell myself that he would confront me about it right away…but then I remind myself that he’s a crafty individual. A bit of a schemer, in fact, and the blog provides a way for him to spy on me and what I think about him and our relationship, especially things that I might not be sharing with him, or things that I might be doing when I’m working away from him.  If he’s reading it, and that is the way he feels, it is in his best interest to pretend he doesn’t know about it so that I keep writing it…or, at least, about him.

I was supposed to go to hypnotherapy that day and I was a little angry about it.  As you recall, we had a huge, ugly confrontation about this issue previously.

Know what that fight accomplished…?  Absolutely nothing.  The only difference is that now when I’m cranky about anything, he laughs and asks if he’s going to have to wear an eyepatch to work tomorrow.

“Frankly, I feel like a lot of what you’re asking me to do is drudge up bad memories I’ve forgotten about so that you can use them to manipulate me,” I said. “I think maybe I need a little time off.  This is getting intense.”

“You can’t take time off until you’re an expert with it, like any other skill.  You’ll lose momentum.”

“I don’t want to go today.”

He lowered his newspaper to look at me.

“You don’t pay for it.  This is an investment that I make in you.  Go stand in the corner and ruminate on your ungrateful attitude.”

Well, this is a new one, I thought to myself.

“I don’t want to go stand in the corner, either.”

“Fine.  Go kneel in the corner and stay there for a while.  You may use a cushion.”

“Collector, I’m not going to the corner!  It’s humiliating!”

“Of course it is.  That is the point,” he said,  from behind his paper.

“You are a fucking asshole,” I whispered (and, for the record, he often is, by any objective standard.  Doms often are.  What can I say?  That’s just the way the cookie crumbles in my life).

That finally got his attention.  The New York Times was lowered again.

“Are you sure?

“That’s the way you’re acting when I have a perfectly legitimate complaint, yes!”  However, I was already starting to get nervous.

“I guess I need to prove it, then.”  He folded the paper, put it down, and started to get up.  “And I have not even finished my morning coffee.”

Uh-oh, I thought, as he started to nonchalantly remove his belt.  In the right circumstances I find this simple masculine gesture very arousing, but this was not the right circumstance.

“Go bend over the table or your bed and don’t struggle.  It affects my aim.  Your arm looks so much better and I would hate to mark it up again before Friday.”  (We have An Event to go to on Friday and about a week ago I fell down wearing handcuffs and got a YUGE bruise on the inside of my elbow.  I’ve been telling people I fell down while cross-country skiing and hit a rock.)

“Don’t hit me with that!  I’m not ready!”

“What, is it going to eyepatch time?  Fine, go get ready for your hypnotherapy appointment like a good girl and you can stand in the corner while I eat dinner tonight so I can enjoy the view.  You are lucky I don’t do it now and get out the rice.”

And that, my friends, is exactly the way it went down.

I did fool him about one thing, though: since he told me in advance (what a screwup on his part) I was going to bed without supper, I stopped at the deli on the way home and wolfed down a sandwich.  I wasn’t very hungry at all that night.

Corner time, though, was as demoralizing as I’d feared it would be.


5 thoughts on “Corner Time and Follow-Up to the Eye-Punch Confrontation”

  1. But, can’t you tell the therapist about how the Collector uses the sessions against you? Sorry, I am sure you have thought of all this….

  2. He’s trying to associate basic and good things with himself (relief with Valium, proper nourishment, caring for you even when you don’t seem to want to be cared for..) but also by depriving you of them. Currently, the entirety of the Red Army Choir is waving Soviet flags in my face while still singing about Stalin.

    I don’t doubt he cherishes you, but there’s a quote of yours which helped me understand my own relationship. “…it’s not love how you and I experience it. It’s an overwhelming desire to control and keep access to comfort and sexuality.” It really helped me, and it’s why I still drop in to read your words.

    What worries me most is how he crosses over boundaries and does not listen to you… We all have our hangups and some we don’t need to get over but we do need to talk with one another how to handle them.

    Maybe you don’t know what it is you want while he’s willing to take a risk to get his needs met. But what are his needs and has he told you how far he intends to go? If you don’t want to know how far he’ll go did you set a boundary? He acknowledges you now (re: cattle-prod, I hope…) but he doesn’t seem, in your own words, to take you seriously.

    You write good words. They’re honest, brilliant and sassy, just like you – I’ll wager even in your bad moments. You’ll have to excuse me for saying that sometimes it feels in this blog that you’re grasping for why you’re here.

    Your human worth is inherent. It might not feel like it when we’re never taught this. Everyone who is human, and some who are not, deserve to be their own to make their own choices. As best as we can.

    You are definitely, very much, worth the respect you need to make up your own mind. If it seems like he’ll do everything but that… is that something you can let go to have this man, this relationship and maybe even the family you want?

    I respect you and I believe in you. Still wishing you the very best.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.