"I understand."

So the past five or six days I've been too unwell to do much more than care for our son and the house. I've managed to have dinner either cooked or very nearly done by the time Sir came home from work each night this week, but by kiddo's bedtime I am exhausted and really uncomfortable.

Last month I had surgery to break up some kidney stones, but they haven't passed. One piece of gravel and one time grain of sand is all. So I'm pretty sure when I have my follow up in 2.5 weeks I'll be told the stones are still in there and I'll need another surgery. Or even worse, I'll pass the large stone before then.

So basically, I haven't been well enough to service Sir sexually in about a week, and I feel awful. He is always so patient when one of my health conditions flare up, but it makes me feel like I'm not doing my job. Like I should be able to buck up and take care of him like I am meant to.

Tonight he was getting a handle for a new implement that we bought on Our Saturday night date, but have been unable to try out yet. It's kind of a hard foam(?) baton. It packed quite a thuddy wallop on my calf when he picked it out. Anyway, I asked him if he would mind giving me a few quick whacks with it, I was curious what it would feel like.

Sir agreed, so I took my place on the bed, face down, bare ass up. He smacked me several times with the new toy, and it was... Interesting. I really liked it, but the sensation was so unlike anything we have used before. It was almost like a cross between a deerskin flogger and a cane. A very thuddy cane I suppose. It was heavy and warm, but with the hint of the cold bite of a cane.

After several strokes he wandered into the closet, where we keep the impact toys, and came out with the cane. I said, "wait..." but bit off in mid sentence. Sir asked me what I was going to say, and so I told him. "I was going to say, wait, I didn't ask for that. But it doesn't really matter what I asked for does it?" He chuckled and replied with a quick "nope"just as the first cane strike hit me. It felt wonderful. That icy hot pain.

I am proud that I managed to remain relatively quiet since the windows of our master bath were open, didn't want the neighbors calling the police or anything.

When Sir was finished with my caning, he rubbed my sore bottom and I apologized again for not being up to more. He said, "there is no need to be sorry, but I understand why you feel like you need to say it." That sentence spoke volumes to me about how much Sir cares for me. That he understands that I have limits sometimes and they aren't by choice, but by circumstance.