I did not end up going to the Erotic Humiliation thing. I did not even ask again, even though he had never really said no. He had just emanated disapproval. And perhaps, it would have been just a little too embarrassing, a little too humiliating to show up to something like that alone.
There are lots of other things happening this month that he has said yes to. Yes to going to the erotica writers group, yes to a body work class... and a maybe to a munch where there is an open mic thing for people to read their stuff... in public. I have an unspoken fantasy of reading my poem "Devotion" (you can find it under the poetry key word at the bottom of the page)out loud, dedicated to him, with him there in the audience. We will see.
Speaking of humiliation, which seems to be the topic of the day... he made some callus, selfish directive and emphasized it with the word bitch and all he got was that suppressed giggle grin. He grabbed me by the throat and glared at me. "Seems like the word bitch is not quite humiliating?"
The grin just got wider.
He pushed me down, pinned me to the bed and narrowed his eyes, "I think I will call you..." And he paused thinking.
I lay there, wide eyed waiting. Words like cunt, whore, slut dancing about in my head.
"...Pooh bear." Gahhhhhhh!!!!!!! Bastard, mind fucking bastard!!!!!
This morning he asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I shrugged and said that I thought that the recumbent tricycle was my present for every day of the year for the next three years. Then I said tentatively, "but... if I could have anything I wanted... I would ask for a ring of steel 1/4 inch stealth collar."
He directed me to show him the images and said, "Okay, order it."
That is how things are done. I tell him what I want. He gives me permission to purchase it. So easy for him. No surprises for me. And I don't much like surprises anyway.
Or Maybe Next Time...
26 minutes ago