Sitting on the couch, I changed the channel again, stretched, yawned, and suddenly felt a bare foot brush my face. Abbi had just kicked me, playfully. She grabbed the remote, lay back down, and let her foot fall back into my lap.
"Time for you to get ready for bed."
I looked at the clock. 9:48. At least it was a few minutes later than last night.
"Yes, Abbi."
I gently slid out from beneath her feet, rubbed them softly as I stood, let my hand linger on her big toe, then smiled at her as I walked across the room, toward the hallway, and into the bedroom, savoring her smile back. In the bedroom, I still had to remind myself not to close the door behind me; old habits died hard. It wasn't just that I didn't need to, now that I was married to Abbi. I wasn't allowed. No hiding behind closed doors - not at home. Not for me, anyway. Not even as I walked into the attached bathroom.
I quickly stripped, and placed my clothes in the hamper. Then into the shower, where I washed myself with the gel that Abbi wanted me to use. After patting myself dry, I brushed my teeth. And, as odd as it seemed at this hour, I shaved. I decided I'd better. Abbi would likely be in the mood for sex, and she would want my face as smooth as possible. After peeing, still naked, I walked to the bed.
It was mostly dark, but a hint of light still shone into the bedroom from the hallway. I could hear the TV from down the hall. I looked at the clock. 10:18. Slowly, I knelt at the foot of the bed, and waited for Abbi.
Waiting, naked - it was still strange. The door to the living room was still open, and I could hear television sounds, could hear Abbi getting up, walking around, typing on her laptop, opening and closing the fridge, while I waited. At almost eleven, lights started turning off, the TV went quiet, and Abbi walked into the bedroom right past me, into the bathroom, ignoring me.
I could hear the water run as she brushed her teeth. I heard the toilet flush. Within three minutes, she walked quickly toward me, then plopped down hard onto the edge of the bed in front of me. She was wearing the same pajamas as last night - white, pink floral pattern, long bottoms, and a short-sleeve top. They were cute.
Abbi looked me in the eyes. God, she was beautiful. Cute, really. Soft blonde hair, very light blue eyes. She gave me a little smile.
"You did good today, Chris. You've been very good."
I smiled back. Abbi continued.
"You're adjusting. I know it's not easy."
She lifted her right foot up, resting her pale bare sole on my chest. I took it in my hands, supported it, then started carefully massaging it. Abbi leaned back on both her hands, and sighed, obviously enjoying the feeling. I worked my thumbs hard into her sole, loving the soft fleshy feeling of her beautiful foot in my hand, loving the way I was able to make her feel good. After a minute, she sighed again, opened her eyes, and sat back up.
"I haven't had to paddle you for three days in a row, Chris. That's the longest yet, I think."
It was indeed my longest streak, the longest time since we'd been married that I'd gone without being paddled by Abbi. I didn't think so, I knew so.
"You should be proud of yourself."
She just looked at me for a long minute with a soft smile. Then she spoke again.
"Does it feel like it's getting easier?"
"Well, Abbi..."
I continued to massage.
"It is, in some ways. The rules I have to follow, they're getting easier to remember. They're becoming more automatic, more internalized. But other things are still sort of hard."
I bent down, and gave the foot that I was massaging a soft, gentle kiss.
"Like what?"
"Like the constant attitude adjustments I have to make, Abbi. I make them. But they aren't easy. Sometimes I think I'm correct. But if you tell me I'm wrong, adjusting to that, convincing myself of it, that you're right and I'm wrong, takes more time than I'd realized. Or just making myself accept that even if I think what I was doing was right, that I have to accept the fact that I have to submit to your way of doing it."
"Any examples?"
"Like today, when I was cooking lunch, and chopping all the vegetables, and you stopped me to tell me I wasn't doing it how I knew you liked me to. When you grabbed my wrist to stop me, and held on to it, and, well, spoke to me very firm, and sort of raised your voice, and, well, corrected me, it was difficult. I had to take some deep breaths to make myself adjust my attitude, remind myself that you were right before I said 'Yes Abbi,' so my voice didn't come out all wrong."
"It didn't sound disrespectful."
"It took some work."
"Oh, Chris..."
I could feel that tension coming back inside me, remembering it now, and didn't like it. I told myself 'SUBMIT!' I bent down, began kissing Abbi's foot softly, repeatedly, which put me back into the right frame of mind. She propped her left foot up onto my chest and I took it, began massaging it, with a few little kisses first, thankful that she wanted me to serve her this way.
"Are you going to that work dinner tomorrow night?"
"Honestly, Abbi, I'd rather be here with you."
"I won't be home until almost nine."
"Then I'd rather be here waiting for you, doing whatever you have for me to do."
"Awww. You really can go. You have my permission."
"Thank you, Abbi. It's just that those things are always all the same, and they're no fun."
"Then stay. I'll have a long list of chores on the whiteboard for you."
"Ummm, thanks?"
Abbi laughed. I massaged deeply, then kissed her left foot. Finally, I worked my way around to asking the question I needed to ask each night.