The Anatomy of a Busy Half Weekend
I drove up to Sydney on Friday to attend RnR for the second time.
My first stop was to visit Mitzi, everyone's favourite Jewish cowgirl and all around language slut as she and a friend were getting ready. Lots of tightening of corsets. Very "Gone with the Wind".
I was one of the first ones to arrive after they opened their doors. They very nearly didn't let me in. Apparently the black camouflage cargo pants I had on were only barely acceptable attire. I have worn my militaristic looking black singlet and cargo pants before to a number of events and nobody ever seemed to mind. (I was asked at one point in the evening if I was in the Defence Forces, with the proviso that I should say yes even if it wasn't true. Naturally I said yes, and added that I had killed half a dozen men already that day... with my bare hands. Ahhhhh! Isn't lying fun?) I suppose RnR expects you to lift your game. Must find something new to wear. So far it's always been the military look or my Spartan get up.
Before long Mitzi had also arrived and Lou the kinkycatlady wasn't far behind. We grouped together in the corner as the crowd grew (and at one point had to deal with the boisterous and aggressive conversation of loud-abrasive-clearlyhighonsomething-swearsIlooklikeRobbieWilliamsandWON'TSTFU man. A dose of aspie stabulence for me. Also I talked briefly about how most of the people who rub me the wrong way (in the euphemistic sense, no double entendres here) are dom guys. I don't know why that is. The paunchy-beardy-sometimesbutnotnecessarilyolder guys just tend to be the same ones who get on my nerves.
Lucky for me then that I was there with a group of women. Not a beard in sight. My kink friends tend to be disproportionally female, as are most of my vanilla friends for that matter.
During our time of settling in snuggliness, Mitzi asked if at some point in the evening if I would give her boots some admiration. Now I am quite a fan of boot worship as those who know me can attest, and I said I would, but almost immediately I felt uncomfortable. Part of it was the fact that I had just arrived and wasn't yet in the right headspace, part of it was the fact that I had only very recently met her, part of it was the fact that the boots themselves were her new cowgirl boots which she had sent over from Texas and which she loved but which had no fetish value for me. I didn't feel drawn or driven to do it, I felt as though I had been talked into it. This was a sore point for me. I don't like to disappoint people but I also value my submission and don't like handing it over to just anyone who asks. There was a bit of tension weighing on me as I tried to work out how to express my discomfort. In the end I just said it, and as soon as I did I felt better. I often fail to anticipate how people will react when I tell them things. Sometimes I will say something that sounds perfectly innocuous to me but other people read as me being insensitive. Knowing I sometimes do this, at other times I err too much on the side of caution and fear that people will be upset by innocent words or actions. As a result I avoid saying anything or do something that makes me feel uncomfortable. This was one of the latter times.
Strangely enough, as soon as I got that off my chest and nobody flew off the handle, a spot of boot worship was suddenly ok by me. I had managed to stand up for my submission, and I was no longer being convinced to do it. I chose to give it, and I did. She liked it.
With the arrival of Miss Lis and Audrey from the burlesque show they were attending, our whole group had arrived. At one point, Lou and Lis were sitting on a row of chairs and I was crouched talking to them. Lou asked if I wanted to worship her shoes, and, with the proverbial ball already rolling, I was happy to. So there I was on my knees in a room full of people, kissing my friends feet. Lou is solidly on the subbie side of things, but she knows how much I enjoy this kind of fetishy goodness. When I caned her a while back, I viewed caning her as a form of service because I know she really gets off on that. I got the feeling that part of her saw granting me that foot worship as an opportunity for of service. She likes to please, and in playing with me like this that is precisely what she did.
Then it was the Miss Lis' turn to receive the same treatment. There was a different dynamic between the two of us. I won't say I enjoyed it more because making comparisons like that is silly. There was, however another level to enjoy. With her being a domme, there was a power exchange occurring that was absent when Lou and I were engaged in the same play. To put it another way, I suspect part of Lou was saying "you don't need to do that" whereas part of Lis was saying "oh yes you do!" I was surprised by how different I felt. I was doing the same thing with both sets of feet, but with one there was an element of submission present. (Also, Lis was wearing fishnets, and I like me them fishnets.)
Engaging in so much foot worship put me in a really nice subbie headspace, and for the next ninety minutes or so I knelt on the floor whilst the ladies chatted and Lou stroked my hair. (It struck me that an onlooker who didn't know any of us would have assumed that Lou was all dommey rather than subby. She's definitely a sub, but plenty of subs, myself included, are perfectly capable of topping.) I just felt very relaxed and comfortable on the floor not saying much, fetching a drink when a refill was needed, and allowing some experimenting to be done with the smallest clothes pegs I have ever seen (they really were almost comically small) on my nipples. Man they hurt! It was the only pain of the night for me, but it was a real sharp pain.
I also met Audrey who is also on the subbie side, but who said seeing me on my knees brought out the shy little domme who lives inside of her. We chatted for quite a while, and it seems that this skittish domme who has "run back inside the house like a startled kitten" (I think those were her words) in the past might be interested in coming out to play. Hooray! She was the fourth recipient of foot worship from me. Hooray again! (Also she was wearing gloves, and I like me them gloves.)
Four foot worship opportunities in as many hours, and only one was actually a domme. I know it is standard procedure for subbie guys to whinge about how hard it is to find a domme, but the conventional wisdom that there are legions of sub guys and a mere handful of dommes seems less and less true all the time, certainly in my case. I was at RnR with four women, and I got my worship fix with all of them. If you want something very specific or if you are approaching a stranger with a laundry list of things you want done to you, well then you might struggle, but I was there with four friends. Building up contacts over time really pays dividends and makes playing a LOT more fun.
It was quite late by the time I got home after walking Audrey to her car. It's funny how fast time flies when you're blissed out in subspace.
I only managed a few hours sleep before I had to get down to playing rugby. Playing out of my usual position was tough, and I got a corked thigh and a bit of a knock on the head, but having spectators in the form of Miss Lis and Audrey made things much more pleasant, especially when it meant that afterwards I got to lay in the sun with my head on Audrey's lap as she played with my hair and worked on coming up with a name for her emerging domme alter-ego. My suggestion that she adopt Maitresse rather than Mistress was enthusiastically adopted. It looks like there is likely to be playing with both in the near future with them coming down to Canberra for a kinky farm party at some point, and an invitation to play on one of my future trips to Sydney.
Then it was a shower and a cuppa at Lis' place and then driving back to Canberra. Driving with a corked thigh isn't fun, but I survived to spend the rest of the evening at home alone on the sofa with some chocolate.
Today I plan to do very little aside from a trip to the gym (nothing wrong with my arms) and a sauna. A busy half weekend in the midst of two busy working weeks gives me the tiredness.