The Bad Dream

The D/s part of our life has remained quiet.

A friend was visiting, someone we’ve both known online for years but I’d never actually met. Many hours of conversation, with me eventually going off to bed as the other two continued to talk into the night. No space for play (we were having a fine time without it).

Our friend is an accomplished self-educated photographer and took many pictures of Alexandra.

In a longish leather skirt, opera gloves and holding a cane Alexandra looked the epitome of 50s dominant sex goddess. While I’m not much given to images of domestic discipline the desire to grovel rippled through me. It was impossible to not imagine her grabbing me by the scruff of the neck, strapping me into place and administering ‘physical correction.’

Alexandra was in the mood last night but I was exhausted. While I’ve always wondered what it would be like to surrender while exhausted I never do it for fear I won’t be up to pleasing her, won’t actually be able to surrender. Need to get myself to try it at least once. If it doesn’t work we can stop easily enough.

My Nightmare

Last night I dreamed we agreed to try to decide if we should separate. A horrible thing to wake up from in the middle of the night.

It isn’t as if I don’t love her or feel the need for someone else. I have two guesses to what prompted the dream.

The day before she said something like - exact wording forgotten - I wanted to many specialized events. That stung. It was if I’d been attacked for being a fetishist (which I am).

I’ve always felt she is comfortable with my assorted kinks. I don’t present them like an order saying I’ll have one from column A and two from column B. Many, perhaps most of them will probably never be explored. I’m fairly reconciled to this. What we do must please both of us.

If our friend hadn’t been around I might’ve asked to say more but it seemed like something that could easily wait until another day. But if it prompted the dream then I may have felt more hurt than I realized.

My other hypothesis is that the dream was born fears of external forces that may interfere with our life together. The nightmare may have been an attempt to cope with worries that I willfully block from my mind during the day.

Losing her would be unbearable. A real life nightmare. I’m surprised it hasn’t invaded my dreams regularly.

Seeking meaning in dreams can be made into a vice. Often the brain haphazardly throws words and images together.

Wish us luck.