Read My Kink

Photo Credit: Rhythmic Gymnastics Photos
So, it has been quite a while since I have written anything.  I have gotten a few emails and some questions on my formspring page asking where I have been.  Let me assure you that I am still alive and well; and now that my summer schedule has become somewhat settled, I will be updating more regularly.

I had an interesting time with Sir and Miss last weekend.  It was certainly a different kind of weekend; and while some people would look at it and say that my weekend was horrible, I am thinking quite the opposite.

So let’s set the scene (as accurately as I can remember):

It was Saturday afternoon, and I had just been released from Sir and Miss’s cling wrap/electrical tape hood.  I was on the couch with Sir, with my head resting in between his legs.  I dozed off nicely into a light sleep, probably while thinking dirty thoughts and putting myself in a few torture fantasies.  Some time later, I wake up to the sounds of Miss’s panicked voice.

Apostrophe, one of their cats, had clawed the screen door open and had run away.

I sat up, rubbed the sleepiness away from my eyes, and took the moment in.  I could hear Sir and Miss running around, meowing, and shaking a bag of cat food.  I did not know what I could do to help.  I did not know if they wanted my help.  All I could do was sit and listen, as Sir and Miss ran around, trying to find their cat.

As I was sitting there, I felt something, but I could not really pinpoint what it was.  All I knew was that it made me a little bit sad, a little bit angry, a little bit uneasy, and a little bit concerned.

As usual, Sir was not very outwardly emotional towards the situation.  Miss, however, was upset, and anyone who looked at her would have known that something was wrong.  We sat quietly for the rest of the night.  I tried to define what I was feeling, think about what it meant.  At one point in time, Miss started crying on the couch and talking about the cat; about how she was thinking about how he must feel scared, lonely, lost.  I felt tears trickle down my face as she described Apostrophe’s situation and convinced myself that my feeling were probably about not liking the idea of Apostrophe suffering outside. Deep down though, I knew there was more, and figured that a part of me also did not like seeing Miss upset. I also decided at that moment that it was time to stop crying.  I did not know why I wanted to bottle my emotions in, I simply just wanted to pause the feelings I had.

The next day, while Miss was out walking around the neighbourhood, I was sucking (choking on) Sir’s cock.  I cannot really remember what happened next, but I do know that I ended up kneeling on the floor, hugging Sir and crying.  My emotional bottle had just burst.  I could not hold it in any longer.  I just cried.

Looking back, I think the reason I wanted to hold my emotions in was so that I would not add to Miss’s emotional load by being emotional.  I am not sure if this makes any sense, but I suppose I wanted to be “strong” so that Miss would not concern herself about my feelings and just focus on her own.

At that moment, while I was crying while hugging Sir, I realised that my emotions were about 20% about the cat and 80% about Miss.  Seeing Miss upset, seeing her grieve, seeing her lose an animal that she cares very much about turned me emotionally upside-down.  It was a more intense version of what I felt when people were asking her rude questions regarding gang bangs on her formspring page.  I wanted to do something, I wanted to go out and find Apostrophe, I wanted to comfort Miss; but I did not know how.  All I could do was sit and watch as Miss walked around, upset, doing everything she could to bring Apostrophe home.

So now you must be thinking, where is the good in this story?  What is the point?  Where is the lightbulb moment mentioned in the title?  Well, let me tell you.

After I had stopped crying (now on the couch, across Sir’s lap,) I started to process what I had just felt.  Taking all of my feelings into account, thinking through everything I had felt over the last few ours, I realised that I care a great deal about Miss.  Furthermore, I came to the conclusion that in order for me to empathise with Miss so strongly, I must have a connection with her.

So now some of you might be thinking “DUH!  That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all this time!”

While Sir and a few of my readers have mentioned that I do have a connection with Miss, I honestly did not fully believe it.  This weekend was significant for me, because it made me believe in the connection I have with Miss.  I can say now that I am absolutely sure we have one.  It may not be the same one I have with Sir, but I know for a fact now, that we definitely have one.

And uhm…that was my lightbulb moment.  I know it is nothing new to the readers who always thought I had a connection with Miss; it just took me a while to see it for myself.

!

Oh, Apostrophe (the cat) has been found and is home and safe once again.  I guess this is my version of “and they all lived happily ever after.”