So, we were in pre-sleep banter time last night and we were discussing the day I owed him after losing a stupid bet. The bet involved me dressing and doing what he wanted for a day if he won. He’d been telling there would be multiple pairs of boots and some ‘barely there’ outfits. I pointed out to him that that wardrobe probably wouldn’t be appropriate for his mistress and that it would be decidedly slavish, to which he said,
“Well, you’ve already told the world.”
And that’s the problem with having a blog that he reads. I can’t ‘fess up to anything without him knowing too.
You’re probably thinking at this point that it is fairly important that he knows of my recent decision and it’s pretty crap of me for announcing that kind of drama on my blog – to the whole world, I might add – before I’d discussed it with him. And you’d be right. But that’s how I roll.
Because having a direct discussion about that stuff with my slave/Master/whatever the fuck he is now is way too scary. What if he doesn’t want to put the shoe back on the other foot? What if he wants to stay as the submissive one in this relationship?
I can just see us having a fight,
“No, you tie me up! No, you tie me up!!”
“No, I’m the slave! No, I’m the slave!!”
That would be some great comic material for a sit-com.
In bed last night he also asked that oh-so-familar question:
What are you?
I hmmmmed and hrrrred and tried to be all cute dodging the question for a while, before finally answering that I thought I was on the submissive side of the fence. And I’m not sure whether it was that thought that excited him or the thought of a day with multiple pairs of boots, but whatever it was, it resulted in a prompt “climax” to our banter time.
To be honest, I’m not even sure how you would have a conversation about the future of your relationship. Would you just come right out and ask,
“So, do you want to be the slave or shall I be?”
There’s got to be some sort of a better way to work this shit out. Flipping a coin? Rock-scissors-paper-lizard-Spock?