Please, Sir, Part Two: Barriers and Cupcakes

I started this story on an optimistic note, but I’m not feeling that way today. Between Monday night and now, the tone of things changed in a few texts and a weepy call. I’m doubting whether it’s really advisable for me to try submitting anymore. I don’t know whether I can find a dom who is interested/patient enough to deal with the messy emotions that come from being a new submissive. I’m not sure I’m interested in those emotions either.

So, another hot/sad story. Someday soon I’d like to have some that are just hot. But I’m sure it’ll still be a complicated hot.

Telling this story may hurt some feelings, and I’m sad about that. I mean this series to be an exploration of my own limits and not a judgement on anyone else.

If you’ve been reading for a while, you’ll recall that Ialmost broke things off (whatever things there were going to be) with Fireguy a few weeks ago. There were several reasons for that.

First, I got scared, plain and simple.

Second, he kept coming across as very guarded, almost as though I were a threat to him and/or his relationships. He was going through some renegotiating with Varga Girl and really feeling brokenhearted about it, but it still hurt my feelings. For example, there was a picture from our photo session of him pulling my hair and me having a nice swoony expression. He asked me not to post it so as not to “minimize” hair-pulling with his sub. But even if I had been a client and not a friend, my experience did not deserve to be minimized either.

He kept saying that he just wanted something casual, even though I hadn’t asked for anything more. I felt like I was having to fight the tide of emotions that I had about him and about my brand new experiences. When he said he might not always have time to talk to me, I flashed back to Bill and got really worried. I really really didn’t want to be a doll again.

The third reason I started to back off is that, for all the cute-wonderful-inspiring that Fireguy and Firewife (she’s asked to be renamed Wonder Woman, how could I say no?) are, they have an official “Relationship Agreement” between them that’s very intimidating. I wouldn’t begrudge anybody ANY tool that helps them stay in a happy poly marriage for THIRTY YEARS, but I can’t imagine I’m the first outsider to find this daunting.

I haven’t seen the Relationship Agreement, but the part he told me about, and that gave me pause, was the Levels. There are Play Levels One Through Four. I thought at first they’d be close to the traditional bases, but they’re not. Level One is “Free Safe Play.” Level Two “is for special people” and requires that any potential partners and THEIR partners get tested for STI’s. He said he was “not interested in Levels Three and Four” but BDSM being what it is, I’m sure those levels might be way too advanced for me. He told me that, since I was treated earlier this year for an STI, I would have to stay (it felt like “would only qualify for”) Level One.

Reading that, I have to say I felt like a piece of meat. We hadn’t even had a date, and already I couldn’t hope to be one of the “special” people. I didn’t like the idea of having to earn his/their affection, although, is that part of what being a submissive is? I don’t even know. I confessed that I had feelings for him and I couldn’t risk being stuck in crushtown again.

Nonetheless, I think people have the right to protect their bodies and relationships any way they see fit, and I wanted to learn more. Plus, I just really like them, and the idea of not pursuing things made me sad.

When I called a few days later and he was glad to hear from me, I apologized for things getting messed up over email and jumped at his offer to start things over. I was really excited to make plans with them. Their house really does feel like such a safe place to me, and I loved the idea of going back there. When Wonder Woman called to set up the date, she asked me what I wanted to do, I said I wanted to decorate cupcakes. But I think maybe I should’ve said I wanted to sit in a diner and talk. Because I knew what visiting him at the house really meant.

I asked her what her favorite cupcake is and she said dark chocolate. It was my first time making chocolate cupcakes from scratch, I couldn’t get over how beautiful the batter was. I tried for fire colored icing but it turned out more peach colored, as you can see.

We had such a nice time decorating cupcakes and I was so happy to get a chance to talk to them a little bit. He made a remark about his fingers being too fat to work with the sprinkles, and ohboy, don’t think I hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately, Fireguy and Varga Girl had just broken up (romantically—they plan to keep up the D/S part of their relationship) a couple of hours before and he was having some other troubles, too. A phone call took him away for a bit, but I was happy to have a nice chance to talk with Wonder Woman for a while.

When it was time to go down to the basement where the fire stuff was set up, I wasn’t sure if Wonder Woman was coming—Fireguy had talked about the three of us playing together, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to invite her down or what. She just hugged me and sent me on my way though, saying to text her if we needed her.

Am I ever going to write a story that doesn’t make me think I should have talked more first? Is there ever enough talking?

Next: My First Collaring

The Calendar Is Celebrating!

Because Fireguy and Firewife are on it! For week after next! I'm excited to go back to that soothing house, and I can't wait to get all pretty for them. I'm not sure what'll happen, but there's talk of cupcake-decorating. They are an amazing couple who've been together for 30 years, so I hope they'll tell me lots about their adventures together.

There's lots of other good stuff coming up too. I'm feeling really lucky this morning. Thanks for reading this and helping me to have courage.

Here are ten minutes of fireworks to celebrate:

Nearly-Naked and Fire-Kissed, Part Three

I’ve never been very good at casual kissing, but I want to learn to enjoy sensations for their own sake, and plus I just wanted to kiss him, so when Fireguy offered me an upside-down kiss, I said sure. And of course was a good kiss, of course it was. I’m not supposed to get attached to him, so I was holding back, but it was definitely good enough to make me wonder what it would be like if I didn’t hold back.

I’d like to stop for a second and acknowledge that even though this is a friend who belongs to two other ladies, and there were people are lined up to be next, this scene still seems wildly romantic to me. Even the idea that H and E (They need nicknames. How about Varga Girl and Firewife?) were letting me and the rest of the world borrow him for the evening makes my heart go all mushy because it makes me feel close to them. To The Ladies and to the world. So we’ve established that I am a sentimental poly mushball.

And not a moment too soon because then he asked “Can I give you a fire kiss?”

Um, yeah.

He told me to close my eyes, then lit the fire on his hand. He snuffed the blue flames and then put his hand at the bottom of my neck, just above my heart. I gasped as he kissed me. It was a swoon, there’s no other way to describe it. A falling sensation.

He asked how I’d gotten so good at kissing and I laughed and said, “Well, I’ve been married to a lady for a long time.”

The woman who was next in line makes me rethink my idea of myself as needy. At one point, I opened my eyes and saw her just staring down at me, the flames reflected in her wide eyes. It was creepy, and I don’t know why I didn’t ask her to back off. I guess I just felt like I was safe. I smiled at her and turned my head like I was going back to sleep.

He had me turn back over for “fire spanks.” (Is that not the happiest phrase ever?) I would gladly have submitted to that for seven or eight more hours, but there were other people waiting and he was also supposed to be taking pictures. I sat up all blissed out and glowy and he said, “Now normally, if there were more time, I would wrap you up in a blanket and do aftercare” and I just sort of leaned into him and he said “Aaaand I’m going to do it anyway. Wrapped up and in his arms, I felt special and famous and chosen. Being seen getting treated in this way filled something up in me, gave me a bright feeling of being recognized.

He asked for a few more kisses and I joked that now he would have to kiss all of the girls in line. He said that no, he wouldn’t.

I was planning to stay and do more things with him if he got time, but when I called home Sweetie was already on her way to pick me up. (I really have to stop being a baby about driving myself to things.) It was kind of a good thing I had to go, because I was starting to feel like I didn’t have enough energy left to navigate the place. After I said goodbye to Fireguy, the self-consciousness I’d bypassed earlier kicked in, I felt awkward and threatened, and I was ready to just be home. When I went to the dressing room to change into my comforting flannel PJs, one of the couples I’d watched earlier was in there on the couch snuggled up. They seemed so beautiful and sad and sweet, I was worried that I would disturb them.

Walking out of the place, you know what? Young fetishy people really look at you funny if you are in flannel pajamas with cupcakes on them. Who knew?

I was at a loss for words (Rare for me, obviously) in the car on the way home. I kept trying to explain how I felt but could only come up with phrases. When we got home, Sweetie and I curled up and watched sitcoms. After a good night’s sleep, the fears wore off and the sex-goddess feeling came back, turning Sunday into a blankety daydream.

Typing this story just makes me want more. More him, of course, I hope it turns out that that’s possible. But also just MORE. I’m not sure what my next adventure is, but I am SO ready for it.