I was in a horrible place when I last wrote in November. I was desperate for answers, not even answers, just… anything, ya’ know? Anything that would tell me something.
So I got on his iPad and opened up his tumblr account.
I’m not proud of my actions (he is definitely entitled to privacy), but I’m glad I did it.
(There, I said it. Moving on.)
What did I see?
Pictures of dominant women.
Lots of dominant women.
I was pissed and hurt — not about the pictures, ’cause let’s be honest, dominant women are hot. Had he been home (I wouldn’t have been on his iPad) I would have punched him, possibly in the balls.
I had a right to be hurt. Some of my suffering could have been avoided if he would have been honest with me. Do not misunderstand, I can sympathize with his situation. I cannot, however, sympathize with his choices. He didn’t have to spill all his beans, but he didn’t have to keep leading me on either.
And, besides that, I had asked him more than once over the last few years if he would like for us to be the other way around. He assured me, every time, that he wanted it the way it was — he wanted to be in control.
After talking it over with a friend and thoroughly overthinking it, I decided that I would go to him with an offer. An offer of switching or for me to be, you know, a Domme.
If you are a follower of my last blog, take your surprise, multiply it by 100 and that’s about where I was at.
I sat down next to him on the couch, cuddled up to him, his arm wrapped around me and my head in the crook of his arm, and an hour later (possibly longer (ahem)) I managed to spit it out.
More than anything, I just wanted him to know that I was cool with it — that we could figure out a way together.
Inside I was a mess. I was doubtful I would be able to play the dominant. I didn’t want to, and I knew I would. It was better than having no D/s in my life. I needed it to happen. And if it was something he wanted…
At first, he was reluctant. I thought my head would explode (or I would rip his off) if he couldn’t admit that he was at least a little interested. I mean, it is completely understandable that he would be reluctant, but take into consideration where I was at in the moment as well.
I kept pressing, gently.
I kinda rambled on about how I wanted us to work and what we had been doing wasn’t working. When that didn’t seem to do any good, I closed my eyes and said, “It’s something I’m interested in.”
I felt him give a little. A ripple of relief…maybe?
I rambled some more, then after a stretch of silence I blurted out that I had been on his tumblr account.
He had a few questions about when and why — he wasn’t mad (that came later). After I answered, he was quiet for a long time, then said, “Okay, we’ll try it for a month.”
And so it began.