Something remarkable happened to me on Sunday. Someone that I didn’t think I would ever see again dropped by. He and I used to be the best of friends about three years ago – and in many important ways we were more than friends.
In order to maintain his anonymity I’ll call him Evan, and as I reveal what is special about him I’ll also have to reveal a little bit about myself. Isn’t that always the case?
You see, back three years ago I was Evan’s Domme. Yes, that’s right! I used to be on the other side of the paddle. Evan was a dear sweet fellow who, in many ways, needed someone to run his life. (Though I’m sure he’d disagree with that opinion.) He needed a Domme to establish rules and guidelines in his life then hold him accountable. I did all those things for Evan.
Lucky for me Evan had a bit of a foot fetish too. He would literally spend hours kneeling in front of me rubbing my feet and legs. I don’t know for sure what he got out of it, but I was thrilled with the arrangement!
Occasionally, he would brat around to get my attention or (less often) he’d really do something inappropriate and I would have to take him to task. I had a nasty acrylic cane, several rattan canes, and a small collection of paddles that I used for such occasions. He was wildly turned on by the whole process as evidenced by his erections, but once the first couple of strokes landed and the pain set in the proverbial thrill would be gone. (I certainly can relate to that! After the first stroke hits my behind, any notions I might have had about eroticising the experience go right out of my head and all I can think about is pain.)
I should take a moment to mention that I’m not really a Domme at heart. I am very bossy, very controlling, and very in-charge. These are all good Domme qualities, true. But the whole thing doesn’t turn me on at all. Probably because in my heart of hearts, I really am a submissive – but I digress.
Evan needed someone who could be there for him full-time, and it certainly wasn’t me. Though I loved and cherished him, I just didn’t have the motivation to do the Domme Thing full-time.
Another woman stepped up to the plate and took an interest in Evan. She was even less of a Domme than I, though she does have my same bossy streak for sure. When the two of them began to date seriously, she obviously wanted me out of his life. Within three months of dating, she convinced him to get married and move away. That was three years ago.
But on Sunday I got a call from him. He was in the area and wanted to know if he could stop by. He arrived with his wife and seven-month-old baby. She still isn’t too fond of me, but at least she allowed us to have the visit. It was great to see him – I’ve missed him so much! The baby was a real cutie pie too.
He tells me he’s been saved and now attends a Pentecostal Holiness church on Sundays. In general, I know what is meant by being saved. Specifically however, I’m not sure. Maybe it was his way of telling me that he’s no longer in the scene? A male submissive married to a vanilla wife has to make certain concessions, I’m sure.
If I end up whipping any tails though, I’ll be sure to blog it. In the meantime, if there are any male subbie foot fetishists out there who want to spend hours rubbing my feet, please don’t be shy! You can’t imagine how sore feet can get in three years.