Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I Have More In Common With a Domme

I'd complained to Sir in the past about the kinds of peole that I'd met during my early months in the Boston scene. Most of the people I'd become friends with early on, didn't quite "get" the D/s aspect of bdsm that was important to me. They'd called me a switch, a tickleslut, and never could quite undersand that what I searched for in a relationship was a lot more than being a sometimes bottom tickleslut. They didn't understand and tried to fit me into a familiar mold. It was annoying, but never did I feel like crap from being around them.

Sir had told me about a local group of masters and slaves. He'd been to meetings of that group alone, and with his prior sub, and found the people there to be intelligent, thoughtful, and for the most part, normal people living in a D/s or M/s lifestyle.

I decided to try my hand a meeting last night. This one had come across my computer screen off and on for a couple of weeks and Sir had mentioned to me several times that I'd find the people there more along the kinds that I was used to; and that I'd have a lot more in common with. They weren't all "internet-slavey" types, but shared a serious interest in D/s relationships.

I contacted the organizer of the meeting, which was to be just the "little s" part of the group, and arranged to attend. It was being held at a restaurant about a half hour from my house, which meant that it was also about a half hour from Sir's house. That meant that I'd be able to go to Sir's after the meeting. I'd started looking forward to the meeting.

When I arrived, there were six of us. A seventh joined us a bit later and an eighth came in much later. I was having a wonderful time until No. 8 showed up. Things went downhill quickly from there and today, I'm left wondering: if these are the kinds of people that Sir thought I'd have more in common with, either he doesn't know them very well....or he doesn't know me as well as I thought.

To be fair, before No.8 showed up, I was having a good time. I knew one of the people there pretty well, and a second I'd spoken with briefly from time to time. The conversation was fun, intelligent, and I enjoyed swapping stories with them.

No.8 and I knew each other. No.8 is in fact a good friend of Sir's. I'd met her a few times and while Iknew that we'd probably not be friends, I didn't have any firm reason why I knew I wouldn't want to spend a lot of time with her. You know how there's just some people you meet and the hairs jus raise on the back of your neck? That's how I'd felt the first time I met No.8.

Regardless, I didn't dislike her...I just didn't think we'd ever truly hit it off well enough to go beyond politeness when we were together. And that's OK. There's many people I don't always like enough to spend time with voluntarily....but I don't dislike them enough to avoid doing it either.

But No.8 had some news that she was just chomping at the bit to tell everyone. It seemed that she has a new Sir of her own. I was excited for her, as was everyone, and we were all damned curious about who it might be. But, after she'd told us who it was, I felta sick feeling inside. And apparently my face gave me away. My friend, who was sitting next to me, immediately picked up on it and questioned me. I didn't know what to say about it and finally told her that the person No.8 was now seeing was the one that had injured me a few weeks ago, with no apologies. She knew he rest of the story, so she'd understood my reaction.

I had to sit through about 40 minutes of No.8 extolling the virtues of this epitome of domliness all the while trying to keep my quesadillas from coming back up my throat. I thought a lot of things about that person over the past few weeks and none of them were kind. No.8 apparently thinks that he's sort of a "famous" domly dom...full of sensuality, intelligence, and responsibility. Personally, the idea of the first squicks me; the second is hard to find through the fantasyland he lives in; and I know first hand how much of the last is missing. He's probably one of the most irresponsible domlies I've come across in 10 years. The difference is that he's been lucky until now.

Once I'd gotten over that shock, and afer I'd gotten up for a walk to clear my head and text Sir about this vomit-inducing turn of events, I returned to the table with my smile in place. Only my friend could tell the difference and she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

The conversation was then moved by No.8 to catting about someone else in the group that wasn't in attendance. The sheer amount of crap this group was saying about some woman I'd never met was astonishing. it's one thing to gossip with your best friend about someone else once in a great while (like who can't help that?), but it's an entirely different thing to say those things in a large group. What was even more astonishing was that once No.8 got going, it seemed like everyone had to "one up" her with another horrible story about this person. I was sitting in my chair thinking "my god...these people don't know me...I might be friends with the person they're talking about". I was also thinking that this might not be exactly a group of people that I'd like to spend time with. The negativity, the shared cattiness over a common enemy, and the groupthink mentality was a drain on me.

As I was leaving, the organizer told me that I'd be welcomed to come to the main meeting alone if I liked. My friend then told me "I could sit at her Master's feet if I felt uncomfortable and needed someone to protect me". I barely knew how to hold the bile down. Just what the fuck is it about me that makes people think I need protection? I don't need an anchor, a touchstone or a babysitter. When I'm with Sir, because of our relationship, he is my protection. Everywhere else..I can take care of me perfectly well thank you very much.

But before I said something that would have left a horrible impression of me and a bad reflection on Sir, I just made an excuse that Fridays were bad for me, but that I'd try to come.

My head was ready to explode at the thought of spending even one more minute with this gaggle. And I wondered: if their subs/slaves were like this...what must their doms/masters be like?

I finally left and drove to Sir's. I was so full of negative energy when I got there, I almost ripped his shoulders off while trying to disperse some of it through a back massage.I told him about the things that had been said, and about how I'd felt leaving that meeting.

He said the only thing that could have made me feel better at that point. He said he was sorry that he'd put me through that.

He explained that at the meetings he'd attended, these people really did seem like normal, smart, savvy women who were involved in D/s. He'd never seen them behave that way.

Which made me wonder. If I try to be a reflection of Sir in all that I say, do, and with how I interact with others, if being a good reflection of Sir's teaching, guidance, love and discipline is what I attempt to show others (despite my being a flirty brat sometimes) is what I'm doing just old-fashioned? Are my beliefs and training just out of date? These women put on a good show when their Sirs are around, but they are completely out of control when they're apart? Is it too much to think that part of my job of being owned by Sir is to remember that and act that way even when he's not with me?

Am I just too out of touch? Or...after all this time...have I really been wrong about everything? Does my kind of training work in today's world?

And I'm also thinking that the friends I first met aren't so bad after all They might not understand D/s or me, but they don't make any pretensions about who they are either.

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