drinks with dominants

Shortly after a beating, Ma’am and I headed out to spend Friday evening with a good friend of mine - a dominant that I respect and admire. We see each other rarely because of our respective geography and I’ve been looking forward to his visit for weeks. Ma’am has been looking forward to the evening as well – she’s heard a lot about J from me and was happy to be finally meeting him herself.

I hadn’t been surprised when Ma’am revealed her intentions to give me a sore bottom before leaving as she’d done the same last November (must be a dominant thing?). I was happy to hear of her plans for a variety of reasons, one of them being that I knew the beating would help to center me and quiet my mind and I welcomed the idea of being freed to focus on only who and what was in front of me. Little did I know at that point that a quiet and centered mind wasn’t really an option - Ma’am had decided to put me in service for the evening.

The calm and peace that my beating had instilled was quickly replaced by layers of nerves – it is daunting enough to face the experience of your Ma’am and a dominant that you have great respect and high esteem for meeting for the first time but when you add in the shyness that makes me feel socially lacking and the fact that I was in service in entirely uncharted territory…well, I’m sure you can imagine the inner turmoil it created. I had a lot to contend with, a lot more to focus on than just a pleasant evening out.

As you may have already suspected, the multiply split focus didn't exactly bode well for me. I failed miserably in both my protocol and service requirements. And I do mean miserably – I actually forgot I was in service on more than one occasion as I became absorbed in the conversation. I don’t think I did much better socially – there were several moments where I fell quiet and failed to contribute to the collective conversation. Some of these happened as I realized I’d just failed to follow protocol or had said/done something not befitting a submissive in service (like interrupting my Ma’am) while others were a direct result of my feeling awkward about having just said something I thought made me sound like a moron or noticing that I wasn’t pulling my weight conversationally. I ended up in a loop – one moment focusing too much on my service requirements and falling short in the social and the next focusing too much on the social and falling short in service.

My failures and inability to strike a balance between service and social etiquette aside, I did have a wonderful evening. J was charming, witty, and interesting (as always) and he and my Ma’am seemed to have hit it off. The hours flew by in the blink of an eye – which is the best indicator of time spent in good company and good conversation.