It was lovely.
Despite the fact that we got started later than i wanted to, mostly because i had to get my stupid hair done before we could leave and then i still had to pack and so did Sir. But we were making great time, and i was feeling pretty good ~ until we run into traffic .
Sir is driving then and we need gas. He takes an exit right into tons of traffic. Then he gets off the expressway altogether. We’re really close, and i’m so anxious i can barely keep from letting loose with a whole stream of cranky thoughts.
i don’t. But here’s the thing.
When you’re the kind of person who doesn’t do a lot of verbal bitching, the person you’re with learns to tell from little, subtle body language cues that you’re frustrated and annoyed.
So we’re on the road to the place, but about 9 miles away going through the city. And city traffic. And mapquest says to get back on the expressway. Which i tell Sir.
Sir says, “No, we’re not going that way.”
i quietly gnash my teeth and sweat through every single frigging red light and car turning left for 9 miles.
Sir ignores that, thank goodness.
We finally get there, and we still have to check in and register, and change clothes for the Meet ‘n’ Greet. And then Sir decides we need to get food right away, so He goes out to bring back some fast food.
Which is great, and i’m glad to have my salad, but then He still has to get ready. i’m about to lose my mind, ’cause i think we’re going to miss the whole Meet ‘n’ Greet, which only lasts an hour, and we’re already 20 minutes into it.
He’s ignoring my silent angst, although He does say, “The party doesn’t start until we get there.” He says it more than once.
But when He starts talking about some new refinements to His outfit, and maybe adding something to mine, i think my head is going to explode.
“Sir,” i say, trying not to sound like a nagging fishwife, “The party will be over before we get there.”
He looks up in surprise. “It doesn’t start ’til 7,” He says.
“Noooooo,” i say, “It’s over at 7 ~ the Meet ‘n’ Greet is, it starts at 6.”
“O,” He says, in tones of mild surprise. “So I guess you don’t want me to spend a lot of time thinking of things to add.”
“No, Sir,” i say, “i’d rather you didn’t.”
And He didn’t, and we finish getting ready. He is handsome and dashing, and i’m not half bad either, if i do say so myself. i thought about posting a picture of us without heads, but the hats are half the costume, so that wouldn’t work.
Anyhow, that’s all good, and we get there in time. It’s fun to see how other people were rigged out, and we have coffee and chocolate, and a pretty good time. But my head is just not in the right space ~ not where i want it to be. i apparently can’t go straight from cranky to feeling sweetly submissive. Or hotly submissive.
After the opening remarks, we go back to the room and change clothes for the play party. My steampunk outfit is not nearly kinky enough to wear to the party.
i keep the party outfit simple ~ black, thigh-hi stockings, heels, new black bra and panty set, and a black, button down the front shirt that hits the top of my thighs, that Sir likes a lot. And the tether.
Here we are, me and my tether:
Sir carries the tether, i carry the slack in that big coil of rope so there isn’t any chance of Him going too fast and pulling my leg out from under me.
Here’s another picture ~ you can see my cute shoes ~ well, shoe ~ better in this one, i think. He can untether me at the silver link ~ He just unhooks it ~ when i need the bathroom, or when i stand in line to get us snacks. i just put the excess rope around my shoulders, like a feather boa, or a boa constrictor or some such thing.
But despite all that ~ despite the tether, and my new collar, which is purple, and pretty, and the huge padlock, and all the activity around us ~ people naked, being beaten, figged, tied up and suspended, punched and sexually penetrated ~ i don’t feel that submissive head space that we all long for.
You know the one i mean.
Don’t feel it until i say something about not feeling it, say something about wanting to be submissive, and Sir looks at me,a little puzzled, and says, in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, “Well, you’re always submissive.”
And i’m taken aback, just a touch, but i feel the warmth spreading through me, and He says, with a little chuckle, “You don’t think it comes and goes, do you? You’re always submissive.”
And that does it. That allows me to slip into that head space of submission. And gives me something to think about later.
Gotta go. Classes await us. Having fun ~ WISH YOU WERE ALL HERE!!
Tags: BDSM, C.O.P.E., Dominance, Submission
