Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Sex homework: Scene 2

Encouraged by the success of the first of our sex homeworks, I jettison the timid sex-ed scenario and get writing. The new scene is more ambitious and kinkier. To my delight it is the one Virgil chooses.
I am blindfolded and wait for you in the living room. You don’t talk to me at all when you come in and throughout the scene you only address me curtly to tell me what to do and what not to do. I’d like you to be really strict and exacting about what positions I assume and how I hold them or move. Tell me exactly what I have to do and how to do it. You undress me roughly and handcuff my hands behind my back. Kneeling over the sofa with my face in the pillow, spank or beat me with an implement of your choice. Put a butt plug or the smaller black dildo inside me and move it around. Tease my clit with your fingers and/or a vibrator. Hurt me some more if you like. Tease me and withhold my orgasm, making me beg to be allowed to come. It is up to you whether you fuck me with your cock or a dildo. 
We plan to play on Sunday afternoon but then Virgil has a work project that runs over and we have Ruby coming to dinner. Time starts to look squeezed and when Virgil says he needs to work until 5.30 I almost scupper things by losing my temper.

Kink is complicated when you live together. If I were the dominant and Virgil my sub, d/s would be straightforward: I would simply send him off to clear up his mess and then punish him for his inevitable failure to do so to my satisfaction. There's nothing like a domestic barney for ruining the dynamic: it's hard to feel dominant if you've just been shouted at by your so-called sub. It's equally hard to feel submissive if you're cross because your dominant finished the bread and you fancy a piece of toast. I don't know how those 24/7 Total Power Exchange lunatics do it. For me and Virgil, d/s runs on mutual good will and the willingness to step outside everyday life.

I don't want to be rushed and I don't want to be finishing a scene with the fact that a friend is due in half an hour in the back of my mind. Fortunately we are able to calm it down and agree a compromise: we stick to our plan to start earlier but Virgil will have some time to work between us finishing and Ruby arriving. Then we shuffle around the flat pretending not to notice each other while we each prepare in our own way.

I'll spare you the details. What happened is pretty much what I wrote - and actually, a few minor points notwithstanding, it was quite good. Virgil cropped me hard enough to make me swear and afterwards I felt dreamy and loving. We sat down the next day over lunch for a debrief. I say: 'I feel really positive. I think on balance that our sex homework went well. It seems to me that writing and negotiating scenes would be a good way for us to start doing d/s together again. What are your thoughts? How was it for you?' And Virgil says: 'Well, I'm happy that you're happy and happy that you feel it went well.'

'Oh for god's sake! Fucking thanks, Virgil,' I shout. 'Don't you have any opinion yourself on how it was for you? Why don't you damn me with faint praise while you're at it?'

He assures me that he did not mean it like that. I say: 'Ok, would you like to tell me about anything that didn't work for you?' He says: 'I guess the last scene was not one that it would ever have occurred to me to do, and it felt a bit impersonal.' I say: 'Fair enough, but isn't it good that we both get to make up scenes? If there's anything you really don't want to do you don't have to, but for both of us there are going to be things that we feel neutral about but do because the other one really likes them,' 'I guess so,' he says.

I wave at the sofa. 'Virgil, I fucking loved being bent over that sofa,' I say. 'That position really does it for me, although there were a few things that didn't work quite so well. Erm, a few learnings...' 'What?' he asks.

'Well,' I say: 'Although I asked for you to be brusque and hardly talk to me, I realised during the scene that I would actually prefer a lot more talking. On balance, I think I actually like to be talked to a lot.' 'Oh good,' he says. 'Also,' I say: 'If you use a sex toy on me during a scene, don't use one you haven't used before. It's better if you know what to do with it already.' 'Ok,' he says, and grins. 'The other thing: I would say that lube is better than spit during a scene. Spit is quite drying after a while. There seemed to be quite a lot of spitting going on.'

'That wasn't for lubrication,' said Virgil: 'I was spitting on you. It was humiliation.'

'Oh goddammit, Virgil! That wasn't in the scene and actually I don't like being spat on. Spitting's a hard limit with me. It's a good thing I didn't realise what you were doing!' 'Isn't it?' he says, and as we're both laughing now it doesn't matter.

I resolve to write a list of hard and soft limits and a list of things I particularly like to do or have done to me. I've never bothered with this in the past but increasingly I see the sense in it. Hopefully Virgil will too.   

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