So, in view of real events, I'll be keeping this as real as possible, and rather than blogging on some fantasy, then setting a future day to publish the blog, as real things happen, I'll blog and publish immediately.
This one isn't about something that happened... yet...just something I started pondering.
After our home session, we were preparing to go to Moonburn.
Since it was my home, I had my whole wardrobe to choose from, and I asked him what He thought I should wear.
My first choice is always tight cycle pants (Dri-Star, from Walmart). I love the way they accentuate my buttocks. However, they are not easy-on, easy-off, and ... no pockets.
The second choice I offered was cargo-judo shorts. Not long pants, not short pants, but in between, with sufficient pockets for my keys, wallet, phone....and very easy on-and-off.
He thought the cargo shorts better.
Then underwear....
Commando WAS an option. Some locked guys swear by it.
Or a jock strap.
Or jock-briefs. (Briefs in front, exposed bottom, but not exactly straps around the thighs).
Or boxer briefs.
Or just, you know, plain and simple, briefs... tighty-whities.
Or a thong...
I didn't mention panties... really didn't think it appropriate for this event, but he knows I have plenty of 'em, so if he had said to, I would have.
He chose plain and simple tighty-whities, this time. Something about, keeping it simple, the first time anyway.
And so dressed, off we went.
The point of this, finally, is that I did not mention 'boxers' because I don't own any. I really dislike 'em. Many guys swear by the freedom they provide; I intensely dislike them.
Had He said, "Boxers?" I could have and would have said, in all honestly, I don't have any.
Since then, the thought passed through my cerebral cortex, that if he were to message me, tell me to get some boxers, that the next time we meet, he wants to see me, in and out and in them, that... THAT would be the end of it for me: Nope, sorry, not boxers, that's a hard limit.
Then it hit me: submission is often about: doing what I don't like doing, just because I'm told to do it. I don't have to like it, I often don't get to like it, I just have to do it.
Honestly, it seems like I often tell him things I 'don't like', just to get Him to test me on those things.
So, if He told me to ...wear boxers, I would wear boxers.
On a different topic, I was thinking of one regret I have about events at Moonburn... and by regret, I mean, something I coulda shoulda wish I thougha mentioning at the time, but didn't.
In prior post, I mentioned the point at which He said, "Remember I promised you a strapping while we're here? Now's the time..."
And we marched into the big room, and I stripped down, and bent over a table, and took I don't know how many smacks of his strap and leather paddle across my buttocks.
In retrospect, I sorta kinda wished I had been able to say, "If I may, Sir, would it be any more delicious for you, if I were to go in the room, with you... and strip down, and stand, facing the wall or something, and simply wait a bit until you are ready?"
I mean, that would be a height of submission for me. Stripping down, in a room with numerous other guys around, and simply standing, and waiting.... knowing my (still bruised) bottom is on display, and knowing, in due time, in some time, it's gonna hurt, it's gonna hurt a lot more.
THAT, to me, is real submission.
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