Remember the play date I was so excited about in my post “Anticipation”? The blushing, the magic spell, the bliss of submission etc etc? Well according to George, I’ve gone cold. Like yesterday’s porridge, I am no longer on the menu.
“I always like to inspect a new sub.” George had it all planned.
The way he went on to describe his plans sounded very fixed and slightly cold: was I just the latest in a long line of subs? Did I have any say at all in what went on during our first play session?
Sure, cold can be sexy if the relationship is supported by warmth and loving care. Otherwise it is literally somebody being cold and impersonal and that’s not sexy: it just feels really fucking shit.
He seemed to expect me to give him full consent to do as he pleased right from the first moment. He’s the dominant so he decides the pace, he said. I was definitely up for some play, but I was anticipating easing in gently. By this point we had shared a sandwich over lunch… that’s the sum total of time we had spent together.
A quiet alarm bell began to sound. I began to think carefully if I this was what I wanted. How can he possibly expect me to hand over my body and mind on a plate so soon?
I decided to approach it with openness and talk with George about how I was feeling.
“Your plans sound very tempting, though I’m realising that I would feel more comfortable saving it until I know you a bit better… until we have a closer connection.”
He said he was confused, and needed time to think. More alarm bells rang in my head. I was opening up the communication, and he was shutting it down.
Then he ended it. Finito. No discussion, no working it out: it was his way or no way. I asked him to explain further.
“You’ve gone cold” he said, explaining that my needs are more complex than he can meet.
Needing to take things slowly is going cold? Having feelings and boundaries is complicated? What he calls “going cold”, I call keeping myself safe both mentally and physically. This is what good self-care looks like to me.
The sudden withdrawal of contact strikes me as very controlling. I can’t quite put my finger on why it pisses me off so much. But it leaves a really bad taste.
“It’s only light play.” he said. “No bondage, no pee.”
I think it’s the implication that I’m somehow frigid: that I gave him no choice; that I’m a bad submissive for realising I was uncomfortable and speaking up.
I’m submissive. I am not a fucking doormat.
I feel proud of myself for noticing my feelings and for voicing them at the time. I have worked hard to be able to do that. I think I’ve saved myself getting deeper into a situation that would not have worked out well.
What next? More dating? I’m beginning to lose the will.
***This has been a challenging post to write because I’m trying to describe my feelings and reactions to what happened, whilst still being honest and true to events. It’s also hard because I’m pretty sure George will be reading it. Hi George. I want to share with the world what happened for me and how it felt. And some of this I haven’t shared with George- and that’s why it feels difficult.