I remember that evening clearly. It was a couple of days before my birthday, almost a year to the day since I had ended my marriage and I was having a moment of reverie. Thinking about how life was so much better since moving P out, new friendships and how I would love to see Sir, and show him how much I had grown since he went away. It was rare that I allowed myself to miss him, I always felt foolish when I did, vulnerable and childlike.
I was sat in my bathroom, running the bath for my boys
“Ping” says my phone in my pocket, alerting me to a very rare Facebook message. Puzzled, I looked and it was from a new contact… S Dom. Did I want to accept this message? My brain couldn’t quite work out who the message was from. There was only one person that it could realistically be, but my brain wouldn’t accept that He would be messaging me. It had been seven months since we had last been in contact and for all I knew he was dead. I certainly wasn’t ever expecting to hear from him again. So I asked who it was, and when he confirmed that he was who I thought it was, Sir. I couldn’t hold back my tears.
The only response I had was a selfie including tears, and “If this is a joke it’s not funny, I thought you were dead”
He gave me a new email address and we spent some time there chatting. He explained what had happened to him, why he had been absent. He had been involved in a bad car crash and been badly injured. He had thought he had let me know, though it had all been a bit hazy and he couldn’t be sure. He apologised for the upset he had caused me, and then I saw a glimpse of that playful deviant who meant so much “I always did like to keep you in the dark though ;)” I had questions to ask and things I wanted to say. He patiently listened to all I had to get off of my chest, and answered many questions as they came up, including these:
- I had learnt to love foot play, would he indulge me? I can do that with you, but it would be when I feel it is appropriate.
- I have friends who are dominant males, could I keep them? I have no problem with you having friends N.
- If I mess up and need punishment would he tell me? I will always tell you N
- Would it be possible to have an alternate contact method, just in case…? I will provide you with a number, but expect you to contact me in the media instructed.
Reading back through those emails today is interesting, to say the least.
His needs had changed since we had last been in contact. He had been out of the scene since his accident, and was just getting back into the swing of things. He wanted a semi-regular scene partner who would work hard for him and want to please. He understood that the interim had been very difficult for me, and that was in part due to him. What he didn’t want was for me to be emotionally compromised. I was a busy single mum of two, his needs matched mine: a semi regular scene partner who I could trust and wanted to work hard for. I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t have some emotional attachment to him, for me the submission comes from there, but my boys and our future remain my priority. So we agreed…
He would always be aloof, I would remain aware of that and look after my heart.
I had forgotten this conversation until today, re-reading our correspondence, and it is the same as I feel today. An emotional attachment without expectations on him to reciprocate.
Anyway, I told him that I wanted to continue with him, and he set me tasks again. He asked me to fill him in with what I had been up to, to tell him about my new-found interest in foot play, and my experiences with pee play. Also, he wanted to know about my home life and availability for him. I got started straight away, pleased to have re-established contact and to be working hard for him again. Was I a fool for wanting him back in my life? Maybe, but if I was at least I was His fool.
The time we had been apart melted away and we were back to painting our picture again.