I flew to Washington D.C. to spend the last three days serving as a sex slave for a friend of mine.
I had a good time. I really like the Master/slavery thing. It really feels right. It's amazing to watch a movie on the floor at another man's feet. The sex? Fantastic. Hours of mummification, sucking, fucking, some slightly extreme stuff. I screamed so much during a caning scene that my throat is still hoarse. Note to myself: I've got to find a way not to holler so much when receiving heavy pain... maybe the top should order me to be silent, and cane me more if I make a noise.
At the same time, I'm a little down today, and it's more than the usual "drop". It was an emotionally draining weeked, and not in a good way. The master I served is a little depressive, and often during the weekend, he would descend into anger or sullen bitterness at something I said (or didn't say). Right before I left last night at the airport, he sat me down and told me a list of things that I did wrong: I didn't follow orders, I talk too much, I'm flightly, I wasn't relaxed enough, I didn't concentrate, I ignored protocol. All of these are true, but it was a lot to take right before boarding an airplane.
Due to the power imbalance of a Master/slave relationship, it's a given that criticism flows downhill. During the weekend, I never judged his house, his friends, or his style of dominance. So it kind of hurts to be handed so much criticism one-sided. It really verged on emotional abuse - an issue I had with the last Master/slave relationship I tried. The master I served is kind of a fragile guy... often ordering me during the weekend to give him more praise and joy. I ran out of ways to complement his body. I really thought that having a slave this weekend would make him happy. He told me that he has everything in life he needs: a house that's paid off, a good job, a warm circle of friends and family. He said all his life was missing is a slave to live with him 24/7. It was a hard lesson for me to learn that I am evidently not that slave. Instead of making him complete, my attempt at service pissed him off more than anything else.
After this weekend, my biggest worry is that I'm a freak - unable to relate normally to other people. Those of you who have met me might recognize the halting speech, the moodiness, the manic stream-of-consciousness speech. I wonder if I'm excited to try slavery as an answer to my problems, because I can't interact as a human being in any other way. Tell me what to do and punish me if I don't do it correctly. Anything else hasn't really worked for me lately.