Arrested? (Comeuppance)

This experience started here.

All right... Here goes the EPIC conclusion to this horrible story. Sorry I dragged it on needlessly long. I have been having a kind of hard week, so I hope you will forgive me. I left off with Pura saying something completely in character, but completely inappropriate. After she had been out drinking with irresponsible friends, manipulated into a forbidden conversation with her abusive mother, flirtatiously attracting the kissing attentions of a handsome stranger, and arrested for stupidity involving alcohol, nudity, and some other unmentionable furious-making things, she said, and I quote...

"Really, if you think about it, it's not that big a deal, Mistress."

What?

I opened the car door and pushed her out onto her feet. I smacked her across the bottom with as much force as I have ever used when we are in a place others might see. (The garage is an underground apartment garage where lots of people park.) She could not have made me more furious!

"Get in the house," I ordered, furious all over again. Did she really think it wasn't a big deal? It's a big @#$%^& deal!

Please, readers, tell me you agree!

I stalked her up the stairs and inside. She did not even have the decency to look contrite. She looked pouty, but that's not the same thing.

"I really am sorry," she said, but it was the least convincing sorry of our time together.

Now, I was very angry, and I was not in the best mindset to be dealing with her petulance. So I said, "Go and wait for me on the bench."

She flinched at the announcement. The bench is just the wooden seat at the end of my bed where I sit to remove my shoes at the end of the day. I don't think it was the location as much as the fact that I was sending her away that surprised her.

Instead of obeying instantly, as she usually does, she moved toward me. "Mistress, I don't want you to be angry with me. Please let's just talk about this, or take care of it right now."

I grabbed Pura's chin and forced her to look up at me. "Beautiful, there is a chance I could be angry with you for quite some time. Do not rob me of my justified emotions. We will talk about this when I am good and ready."

Too much alcohol, plus emotional discord, makes Pura into a beautiful demon. "Fine!" she snapped, and tried to jerk out of my hand. "Maybe we won't talk about it ever!"

She pushed. I reacted. Over my knee in one swift movement, and my hand came down in a furious beat aross her backside, first one bouncing cheek, and then the other, in a rhythm that left her jumping and crying out in shock. I set her upright and she glared murder at me.

"Go and wait for me on the bench," I repeated, by the grace of god managing to keep my voice calm.

She said nothing, but defiance was in every fiber of her being. I drew a long breath and said some words then that I think shocked her more than anything I could have said. "Pura, go get me the list of your guiding principles."

There are five, and she created them, tweaking them from a story I wrote several years ago. She typed them up and lovingly hung them in a glass frame in the kitchen where she could refer to them as often as she liked. I ignored them usually, because they make me a little uncomfortable, and frankly, I am sure people read them and judge me harshly. They, like her mother and friends, think I have pulled Pura into a filthy, controlling relationship, where she has no say over her life and has to do my bidding.

My order for her to bring me her beloved Principles shocked her because it's so unlike me to dominate on a mistress/slave level. Usually we're pretty vanilla. I swear.

I think the shock was the only thing that saved her, because it shoved her anger and defiance to the back burner, and she turned immediately and collected the framed page from its hallowed place on the kitchen wall. She brought it to me and tried to hand them to me.

I shook my head. "Read them," I ordered her, again--miraculously--calm.

Pura glared at me, but she did as I asked. She read them in her poutiest voice. "One: You are my Mistress. Two: always prompt obedience. Three: absolute non-violence. Four: Never second-guess Mistress. Five: Pura is for Mistress' pleasure."

You can probably tell why they make me so uncomfortable. She loves them. They make me roll my eyes and say, "You're a big selfish pig," at myself. Of course, I did not say that at this time. It was too important that I get Pura thinking more clearly.

"Take them with you when you go wait for me on the bench," I ordered. "They should be an interesting study for you while you are waiting." My tone made it very clear that I will brook no more nonsense from her. And, in fact, to make it even clearer, I walked away.

I heard rather than saw her pull the frame to her chest and, with a soft cry, she ran from the room. It was an ugly thing for me to do. I know. Borderline manipulative, and I hate that! But I also knew I was in no state of mind to be dealing with her shenanigans.

I called Casi. Casi is my very best friend in the world. She helped conceive of the story I created that Pura now uses as her slave bible. Casi and I have been friends half my life and she is my confidante and champion at every turn.

It was very late, and I fully expected for her not to pick up, but I hoped. And she did.

"Hi," she sounded groggy.

"Hey," I answered. I should have apologized for waking her, but what are friends for if not calling with problems at ungodly hours?

"Uh-oh," she said, and was immediately awake. "What's wrong?"

I told her. In greater detail than I even shared with my beloved readership.

"Put her on the phone!" was her very first reaction, but of course there was no way I would subject Pura to Casi's protective anger.

"I don't know what to do," I complained. "She is exhausted and this has been a horrid ordeal. Tell me what to do. Do you think I am what those girls think? A 'crazy, controlling, lesbian nutjob'? Is this insane what I have with Pura?"

Casi smiled. I could hear it in her voice. "Well, you certainly are a lesbian. And yeah, I would say a little controlling, but more on the bossy side rather than the 'dominate the world' side. And you're not crazy. Your mother had you tested." Leave it to Casi to quote my very favorite TV show as a way to try to lighten my mood. "Listen, Nichole, she loves you. You love her. You're consenting adults. You have already seen a shrink because you're afraid this is vastly unhealthy. What did she say?"

"I am not crazy," I muttered in answer. It was true. I periodically freak out that I might be crazy, and I see a counselor who inevitably tells me to calm down. "And my relationship is healthy as long as it is consentual and meeting each of our needs."

"Is it?" Casi asks, and she knows she has me on the hook now.

"Yes."

"Then calm the @#$% down. Pura hurt you and betrayed you tonight and put herself in grave danger. I want you to tell her from me that I will be there in two weeks and she had better show you every respect and worship."

I snorted. "Yeah right," I answered. "There's no way on the goddess' pretty green earth I will ever tell her that."

Casi pouted. "You never pass on my messages."

"That's because they're crazy. But they're also why I love you. Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's fine. Beat her @$$, though. It will make you both feel better."

Yeah right, again, but this time I just said good night. I paced around the living areas for a long time, trying to reconcile the feelings of pain in my heart with my love for Pura. The truth is, I don't want to hurt her, and I hate it! And she already knows what she did was stupid and selfish. What good would it be for me to go in there and exert my authority?

But I know Pura, and she won't forgive herself once she gets over her anger. She will carry this guilt and nurse it into health every few weeks to haunt us forever.

I wanted to scream, but I didn't. I straightened my spine, and I went to my room. I was actually half-surprised to find Pura waiting as she had been ordered. When she is in this mood, she often defies me in silly ways. Like she might be waiting in bed or taking a bath. Not tonight. Tonight she was sitting on the bench with her arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes focused on the framed principles beside her. When she looked up, she took my breath away, as always. She looked beautiful and artless, and utterly devastated.

"Mistress, I am so sorry," she whispered. She crawled up onto her knees, into her contrition pose. "This is a big disaster and you have every right to be very angry with me."

I nodded, agreeing with her, accepting her words, and I continued to stand over her.

"I have broken them all," she admits, astonished at herself, voice cracking with misery. "I have defiled the very nature of our agreement with one another, and you were so kind and loving to rescue me, and I was so horrible and ungrateful." By now, fresh tears were cascading down her face. "You must be so hurt."

"I am," I told her. And a cane could not have been more punishing. She huddled down on her knees and wept. I sat beside her, wrapped my arms around her. I let her cry for a while.

"Pura," I said firmly. "Your principles are your business, but let me tell you what hurts me so much... I don't think you trust me to take care of you. You should have called me. You should have told me what was happening. Why don't you trust me?"

"I do!" she replied, weeping fresh tears and clinging to me as if afraid I would bolt.

"You let someone else kiss you and comfort you," I accused. And if that wasn't the most painful part, I think I hit home with, "And you endangered yourself!" She wept against me, and I said, "What would my life be like without you?"

Shortly after these words, she grabbed my face, and whispered her apologies for everything, but the guilt in her eyes haunted me. She deserved to feel it; she needed to feel it. But I hate it!

"Come on," I urged her with a gentle push. I was up and across the room in a few brisk strides, and I returned with the Lexan. She shuddered, but I just looked at her. She can tell me no, of course, but she didn't. She nodded. Oh, how much do I wish I could just use the brush or my hand, or nothing at all! But the guilt... it won't ever go away if I am not very stern with her.

I sat down on the bench and she placed herself over my lap with a defeated cry. I warmed her up with my hand, of course. This was not going to be a short session. The warm-up alone was a long enough time that I just wished to be done.

Pura held onto her resolve even after my hand became a stern implement upon bare flesh. She refused to cry out, for some reason trying to hold in all the pain.

I rubbed her back and her backside, making her jump. "Pura, give in," I beg her. But I can tell by the flexed muscles throughout her entire body that she will not go easy tonight.

I redoubled my force until my hand could no longer take the punishment. Then the paddle jumped into my hand. I tapped it against her, so she knew what was coming, and then I let it fly.

SMACK!

It's a sound that makes me wince every time, and Pura cried out. Had she possibly forgotten since last time? The paddle sucks!

Again, and again, I brought the horrible implement across her delicious flesh, and she jumped every time. And still she was holding onto her self-loathing.

"Honey," I told her, realizing that my silence may be affecting her. "I am so disappointed in how this evening went down. I have never been so upset with you in my life. But I love you, Pura. I love you so much. Please don't punish yourself. Give yourself to me and let me do it for you." That's always the key with Pura. If she doesn't give it to me, she'll hold onto it forever. And if I don't take care of it, she'll take it back.

It went on for an unbearable amount of time, but finally Pura stopped fighting. She gave herself to me completely. She relaxed across my knees, as much as she could, and I immediately tossed the implement aside and continued with my hand. I had to be thorough, but I did not want to abuse her.

Somehow I always know the exact right time to end a punishment. This time it was three times longer than I would have liked, and she was a bruised red and pink that pained me almost as much as it did her.

I picked her up and carried her to bed, with her sobbing in my arms. I held her against me as I lowered myself onto the bed, and I whispered my love and forgiveness to her. She will never forgive herself before I do. I cradled and comforted her until she fell into a sobbing sleep. It's the worst way for me to watch her fall asleep!

I could not bear her sleepy weeping, and I woke her for a painkiller and some gentle aftercare. When she went back to sleep the second time, she was more restful, and it was safe for me to cry. I could not do it in front of her, or she would punish herself all over again. But I think I had earned a cry!

Pura is the most wonderful part of my life and even when she makes me want to tear my hair out, I love her more than I can express in words. Seeing her broken and pained tears me apart. Besides, the events of the night had been horrifying enough without the spanking. I climbed out of bed and grabbed the Lexan, and I took it immediately to the trash. I did not think I could ever use it again after tonight.

I climbed back into bed, careful to hold her gently and not complicate her pain or wake her from her spanking-induced slumber. I held her, and I watched her, loving her with every piece of my heart.

In that moment, I forgave her completely for her foolishness.

In the middle of the night, she woke me with urgent kisses, and for the first time ever asked me how I felt on the happiness scale. I wished, for her sake, I could say ten, but I was miserable. My answer pained her, but she smiled a wicked little grin, and said, "I bet I can make you change your number." And under her ministrations, change it I did.

If you made it through all this, you're a trooper! Sorry it is so long.

Long, but amazing and beautiful and completely raw. It's you.

It's us.