Goodbye

She's somewhere over the Atlantic as I write this on the subway back from the airport. Our farewell was hurried and unsatisfying. No deep kiss or long embrace, but a peck on the check as she rushed to board the plane. Traffic, both on the trip to the airport and in the ticketing line consumed all of what I thought was a reasonable two and a half hours we allotted to get to JFK. The flight was closing as we quickly said good-bye. On one hand, the close call was a stressful distraction from dwelling upon the matter of not knowing when we will next see each other. On the other hand, I feel like I didn't get an closure. No winning this one.

Conny's visit was long, but not long enough. We never really talked about her return date so when the time was upon us, it was almost a surprise. It was almost an unspoken agreement that we wouldn't talk about her leaving. There really is no way for us to prepare ourselves for being apart, and there's too many things we don't have answers for right now to warrant discussion. The goal was to get the most out of our time together, and to that end, we succeeded.

Our last night was difficult, but for a surprising reason. I had uncollared Conny shortly after we went to Gomorrah, and she had turned the tables not long after. We both wanted a bit more time with me on the bottom before her return. We went out for a simple dinner that night, with much talk about the nature of SM play. It was a great night out.

After we got home, we relaxed bit, had a drink, and we began to ease into a session. Conny placed me in a rather strict shibari harness, and was treating me rather roughly, more than usual. It was challenging. She would frequently and rather suddenly slap my ass hard, pinch my nipples, or pull my head back by my hair. I started feeling a bit unbalanced emotionally. She gave me the task of putting on her stockings and attaching them to a garter belt. I succeeded with the front garters but struggled in vain in the back. I was flustered, and the harness began to take its toll as I struggled kneeling on the floor with the simple task, that I was utterly failing at. I finally, with my hands starting to hurt from wrestling with the stays, I had to give up.

Of course, failing at a task means getting punished. She secured my hands behind my back to the harness, and pushed me on to my back, hard. I could not balance, I could not stop her, I was ver out of control, and at her mercy. And I started to feel a bit frightened.

I wasn't afraid of her, or what she'd do. But this feeling of fear was strong. She pushed me over the ottoman and began to slap my ass hard. That's when tears started to come from somewhere. Just a trickle, not even enough for Conny to notice. I was drifting in a strange place, full of emotion. When Conny when into the kitchen for a moment, I composed myself a bit, steeling myself as best I could for whatever torment was coming next.

Like a bolt of lightning, cold water struck my back. She had splashed me with the contents of a small glass. I screamed, and then I just started sobbing uncontrollably. Something had broken in me, and all the feelings I try to avoid and contain were now freely flowing without sense or reason.

Conny immediately shifted gears and guided me down. We stopped the scene, and she got me free and let me cry it all out. There was really nothing to say, no words would explain the raw sadness and pain that came to me that night. It had nothing to do with what Conny had done to me, other than what she did broke down my ego enough for all these feelings to emerge.

The following morning, as well talked about what transpired, Conny observed a pattern. Near the end of my my visit to Munich, where I had been collared most of the time, we reversed roles. Conny noticed that I came on rather strong, and the session was fairly intense, and it was challenging for her. It seems when the collar stays on for awhile, when we switch, it tends to be a strong reversal. But, Conny also pointed out that playing on our last night together is probably just too difficult, and I think she's right. It certainly contributed to the feelings I was having, though I didn't realize until we were discussing it over breakfast.

It is times like this I am reminded of the strength of the stuff we traffic in.

posted 11:24 AM | link |