And it happened because I was afraid.
Husband, as many of you know, does not like to socialize. He is decidedly anti-social, in fact. He also does not like to engage in any heavily sexual BDSM in public. Put these two facts together, and you get why he almost never accompanies me to kinky events.
Which I've learned to accept. It was hard, especially in the beginning; I wanted Husband at my side, all the time, acting as my Dom and Master. But Husband didn't want any part of that, and he didn't see the need, especially after I put down roots in our local community and felt (relatively) safe on my own.
To be clear, he didn't begrudge me my desire to go to kinky events, and play with others; he didn't try to curb my fun.
He just didn't want to join me in my revelry.
I think the last time before this weekend he joined me at a kinky event was back in...November? Since then, I'd been going to kinky events on my own. Sometimes it was just to socialize and see friends....
But other times....
I was having some damn meaningful scenes.
The kind that stick to your memory long after the marks fade.
The kind that make you re-think things like likes and fetishes and boundaries.
The kind that act like stepping stones on your own personal path of life.
I didn't like it.
I liked the scenes I was having just fine; the scenes themselves were awesome. What I didn't like was that I was beginning to put down stones in the earth that would take me down a path where Husband was not leading me.
Every relationship—vanilla, kinky, monogamous, poly—follows its own path. The trick is to lay down stones wide enough so you can both walk along together.
Now, in a D/s relationship, the Dom is not so much walking along side the submissive as much as leading the way, setting down the stones, lining the path to make it easier for her to follow. Sometimes the submissive may get scared, or feel like she's been walking for too long, and she'll balk. The Dom will have to give her leash a small yank, just enough to remind her who is controlling her lead.
But I think any submissive, for the most part, will stay along the path her Dom sets for her, as long as he's not dragging her in the dirt and setting her up for failure.
But no matter what, every person in the relationship has the responsibility to look where they are going, step where it's safe—and stick together. It is way too easy to get distracted and diverge.
Now, I had not diverged from Husband. It went nowhere near that far.
But I had felt my toe slip off the path, and that in and of itself was enough to worry me.
So we talked.
"I'm having moments without you," I said. "Ones I really wish you would share with me."
He got it. "Next party, I'm coming with you," he said. "I'm bringing the hitachi, you're getting naked, and I'm going to make you squirt in public."
The scene was with Him, my Top, and my Mistress. It was a fantasy come true for me, to have all three of them torturing me at the same time.
I had worked out a signal with Husband, to convey to him when things got too much, when my protests were real and not fake; a "yellow" signal, if you will. And he assured me that if someone did something that went "too far," and I gave him the signal, he would call a break to the action.
What I didn't count on was that the signal didn't apply to him, because I have no safewords with him—not the kind that act as a requirement for him to stop.
So in the course of the scene, as Husband began to torture my right nipple—it is always my right nipple, I have no idea what he has against that poor right nipple—I would give him the signal, he would keep going for another few seconds, and only then, after he'd pushed me off the edge, would he call a break.
Every time I gave him the signal, he would look into my eyes. He would tell me with his stare that he knew he was the one causing me so much distress, but that, as always, it was up to him to decide when to stop, not me. He has that power as my Master.
And after a while, I stopped giving him the signal. All communication was being done through our eyes...and in any case, he had made it clear he was going to do whatever the hell he wanted no matter what.
He made me scream, and come, and squirt, and come again, and scream again.
Like I said, the most awesome sexy scene ever.
But it happened because I spoke up when I needed that reconnection. I had begun to feel a space between us—a tiny space, really, just a drop of the entwined hands—but a disconnect none the less. And I didn't want to feel that space get wider.
The Ferret talked about this eloquently in his own post a while back, titled "It Would Be a Lot Easier For Me If You Didn't Come To This Convention." He writes:
People change and unfold over time; there's no stopping that. The trick is to change together, to make sure you're working as a team. Relationships are more than just the sum of their parts: there's the energy in the heartbeats between, the force of love you feel for one another.
I am blessed to have many relationships in my life, and many people I can say I love. But none of them will ever be as important as the one I share with Husband; he is my path and my journey, and the one who guides my way.
And when I start to feel lost, he is the one who calls my name, looks into my eyes, and lets me know: he is there. Not only is he there, he is the one doing my favor by allowing me to walk.
Should I forget, he will make me crawl.