Separation Anxiety

An interesting thing happened a few weeks back (well, obviously I think it’s interesting, hehe). I’d been back at home, away from My slave for about a month (whom I refer to online as kvetch, as he is a champion kvetcher).

During the last week of the month away from him, My ISP collapsed and was in receivership. I discovered this for the first time when My connection went offline, not to return. So I didn’t even have the usual IRC or email contact with him. We had brief, rather unsatisfactory contact via text message, and some evening phone calls during that week.

When the day arrived when My connection was due to be restored with My new ISP, I was by this time feeling pretty fed up with being offline for so long, internet junkie that I am. So, you can imagine, I’m Super Cranky Domme. Normally it is My habit to keep people I know informed of things as and when they happen. This is especially true of people close to Me. I had every intention of emailing kvetch the minute I got back online, and planned to be pretty darned excited about it, let Me tell you! :)

The deadline came and went, and still, no connection. I got a text from kvetch, asking if I was online yet. Feeling pretty cranky that I was not yet online, not knowing why I wasn’t, and feeling like I really did not want to be answering questions about not being online, I snapped a text back asking him if he was being deliberately obtuse, since obviously I was answering via text and not yet via email.

Unbeknownst to Me, this triggered a strong emotional reaction in kvetch, (of the sort I refer to and regard as a trigger) which he didn’t tell Me about for the next two days. The first day, he was responding to Me as usual, if a bit briefer, explaining tiredness as the reason for that. The second day, he didn’t contact Me at all, and I started to get really concerned by that evening, as I always hear something from him every day. Additionally, about four months before, I had released a slave who had since been regularly harassing Me and kvetch. I began to panic that something had happened to him which was connected with My ex-slave.

With no response from him from either IRC or email, I sent a text asking him to please let Me know that he was alive and well. I got a very brief one back stating he was alive but didn’t feel like talking. As this did little to allay My fears, and gave no other reason for his withdrawal, you can imagine that I was feeling somewhere around DefCon 2.

I was not enjoying this sensation, at all.

To cut a long story short, there emerged from the subsequent communications We had, what seemed to Me some rather convoluted and strange explanations for how he was feeling. I should probably mention at this point that kvetch does not do very well at expressing his state of being clearly and comprehensively. In other words, he doesn’t express his feelings too well.

He’s a man. Who knew. :p

Anyhow, during those communications over a subsequent two days, he made some references to Me which crossed some boundaries with Me. He made some accusations, described My behaviour in certain ways, and described how I am to him in certain ways, which were not only wildly inaccurate but also grossly unfair. This wild inaccuracy, from a person who normally does take care with his attention to accurate detail, clued Me in that something else was going on here, other than the stated words on the surface. So I asked him to come up to see Me.

I didn’t want him coming up that day, as I had a gig that night and really didn’t have the energy to address this issue with him AND work at the gig. So I asked him to come up the following day. He expressed some fears about what would happen between Us if he did that, and I flatly insisted that this was not going to be resolved if he didn’t come up, so whatever might happen, will happen anyway.

(one of the things he expressed fear about was not wanting to be touched, even though, whenever he’s near Me, {which he seemed to have forgotten} he craves My touch as if it were water for a man who’s been in the desert for nine weeks. The reason I mention this will become clear shortly)

These conversations left Me so utterly exhausted, what with the two days of panic and worry, and the following two days of emotionally stressful conversation, that I didn’t know if I’d be able to do the gig. I was just completely shattered. I managed to have a lie down with My eyes closed for about 20 minutes, and that restored Me enough not to have to ring in sick. So I went and schlepped Myself through the gig, and got home late, awaiting the events on the morrow.

So, the slave arrived on the bus, and I walked down to meet him, with him on his way up to meet Me. I saw him approach from a distance, and stopped, waiting for him to come to Me. I smiled, glad to see him. He approached slowly, tentatively. I waited. I smiled. He came the last few feet and stopped a few inches from Me. I waited some more, not touching him, looking into his face. He lowered his face to Mine, rested his forehead against Mine, and rubbed My nose with his nose. I could feel him shaking like a leaf. I kept My hands at My sides, but leaned My face into his. He put his arms around Me, and I held him, while he rested his head on My shoulder, and trembled. I stroked his hair. We stood like that for what felt like some minutes. I waited for the deep breath he takes when he calms down when I hold him. Eventually, he took that deep breath, like a sigh, and then another, and then another. He stopped trembling.

And then he seemed fine after that, as if all the distress he had been enduring had just kind of, evaporated.

We spent the rest of the day talking about what happened. He was feeling mortified at his behaviour over the previous week. And I didn’t deprive Myself of the enjoyable indulgence of winding him up about it, but I restricted Myself to only doing that about every other minute or so, hehe. :)

He was feeling really desperate to make it up to Me in some way, to be punished for his errors. What he didn’t seem to be getting was that, due to the nature of the rules I set, the transgressions themselves led to a punishing experience far harsher than anything I could mete out. He had already endured his punishment, as far as I was concerned, but of course this did not interfere with My enjoyment of indulging his desire to serve and care for Me in extra special ways.

Oh, the anguish of owning a slave….. ;)

During the previous week, I had expressed the feeling that I wanted to cane the crap out of his arse because of how angry I felt at his transgressions towards Me, but that I wouldn’t ever be doing that because it contravenes My ethics on how I must treat other human beings, and particularly, slaves in My care. Later on he was telling Me about how he was feeling really willing and eager to take My cane, but that he would ask Me to help him endure it by restraining him. I reiterated My reasons for not doing so, but I did not exclude the possibility of exploring some pain play, which We don’t do that often.

I knew I’d have to monitor My emotional responses during any pain play. I felt it was slightly risky to embark on such play when I was more likely to feel anger, and I have a hard and fast rule never ever ever to touch anybody’s body either disrespectfully, or in anger. After some initial experimentation with implements, it seemed more appropriate to proceed with close work, with short implements, such as the hairbrush, rather than with the longer ones such as the riding crops. I did not think it would be prudent to maintain any kind of remote distance from My slave while exploring pain play.

I spent some time warming him up with some psychological stuff, such as getting him wearing less clothes than I had on, and kneeling for Me, expressing his submission in a number of ways, talking to him, telling him how much he was My property and how he was Mine to use, stuff like that. Then some more time spent physically warming him up, using a variety of implements before ultimately deciding on the hairbrush (something like the one at the top of this post), all the while talking to him and telling him what a naughty boy he’d been and how he would require My correction, and getting him to tell Me how much he needed My Discipline to mend his ways.

When he was quite warmed up and getting fairly subspacey, I began the serious business of the over knee spanking with the hairbrush. That seemed to go on for quite a long time, while I played with striking him with it in a variety of ways, sometimes rapid short strikes, sometimes big slow ones. sometimes groups of rapid strikes, combined with groups of slow ones, all alternated with sensual touch in between, using both My hand and the hairbrush to touch gently. I had him thank Me for each one, or group, so I could hear his voice and know more about his responses.

Eventually I told him that there were 20 strokes to go and that I wanted him to count them in addition to thanking Me. He got up to “4″, and then just kept repeating “4″. I checked with him to ensure that he was aware that he was repeating himself, and he confirmed that he was aware, and choosing to repeat himself, because he did not feel he had received sufficient correction for his errors. After some thought, I decided to allow this, so I proceeded, using more force with the strikes, until finally he began to increase the count and it finished at 20.

I can tell you that his bum was reddened up beautifully by that stage, just delicious. :) I had been careful to place most of the strokes on that curve of the buttock just above his leg, so that he would be feeling it every time he sat down. Mmm. :)

After that he was just begging Me really urgently that he needed to take My strapon, and please would I take him with it. I thought it seemed a good idea to enforce My ownership of him, so I buckled it on.

(this is always such a treat to do, such a delicious harness and on this occasion with this cock in it, and this ring to keep it in the harness)

As I slowly penetrated him, he got that expression on his face which I love, that wide-eyed, surprised, spaced-out-on-being-used look which, after penetration, sends him straight into a level of subspace where he just about loses his ability to speak. But there was something the matter, apparently something was stinging him badly inside, so I stopped and withdrew. Later on, he said he’d been afraid that I would have forced it, but of course My ethics which I describe above would have forbidden that, and that is why I stopped.

After that We spent a long time cuddling and he told Me how desperately he wanted to take Me, and how he feared I’d persist regardless of his pain, and how he kind of also wanted Me to persist. I explained to him again why I would never ever do that, and reiterated that I never ever would. I reassured him that he’d taken his strokes very well, and been such a good boy, and pleased Me always. And he seemed to take a great deal of comfort in that. And so, We slept.

Looking back on it later, and considering the long term plans I have for kvetch’s development, that particular scene may not have been the most efficacious way to have ended the day, but both of Us had fun, and enjoyed it, and really, that’s the main thing. :)

One amusing postscript, is that now, his online nick has changed just a bit temporarily. I suggested he change his nick to reflect the error of his ways, and offered a few choices. He chose, with no prompting from Me, the most denigrating one. He said this was because he felt so awful about how he’d behaved, and also because he thought it would amuse Me.

(it did :p )

The new nick is now stupid_cunt_idiot_kvetch

lol

I’ll change it back when I feel it’s been long enough, and when I’m no longer amused by it. (he says it amuses him too, hehe)

Clearly, what had happened was that he had experienced separation anxiety to have not only been separated from Me for a month, but to have also been cut off from most of the contact We were accustomed to having. He was experiencing intense fear and dread of losing Me, yet was unable to identify these feelings and why he was having them, so he attributed them instead to My text asking him if he was being deliberately obtuse. As a direct result of that, he then blamed Me for a host of other erroneous things, and got so lost in his emotional washout that he was quite unable to examine his feelings and correctly identify where they were coming from.

It’s really not so easy to identify emotional triggers like that, when it feels so strongly like the feelings really do apply to the current situation. It’s actually quite difficult to recognise that such trigger reactions are in fact disproportionate to the overt circumstances.

It was clear, from how much better he instantly felt on being held in My arms, that his intense feelings were triggered by the thought of losing Me, and not from the imaginary things he thought I’d done. Afterwards, I patted Myself on the back for a job well done, and felt, in a very real way, that I’d done My job with kvetch, fulfilled My responsibilities to him, and actually had been a Good Domme.

That made Me smile.

Yay Me. :)