We're going to call my guy-friend who is a sub something, I'm not quite sure what. Because I realize unless I do something drastic to terminate our friendship, he's going to show up here and there as long as I'm living in this city. He's in my Shakespeare class, so I must at least see him twice a week. And then there's the Writer's Group he introduced me to, on which I am becoming quite hooked. The people are so accepting, and there's this Lesbian girl I sit next to who is so much fun to talk to. It's an added plus that she dresses like she's going to a BDSM party and we've talked about submissive relationships. Yay! (Hopefully I'm not leading her on..tee, hee.)
So we shall call my guy friend M.S. (really, I'm not trying to be mean) Speaking of being mean though, I do believe he put me in my place last night at the Writer's Group. Something that should have happened a long time ago. I guess when I stop respecting someone, and I had lost some of my respect for him through getting to know him more, I tend to make fun of them under my breathe--just little tiny things that most people brush away.
So we were in the middle of writers group. M.S. had brought a huge bottle of vodka and Red Bull and was downing glass after glass of these mixed beverages. (This is pretty normal behavior for this guy.) I had requested a glass too, but realized later it was a bad idea. Thinking about the technicalities of writing and drinking vodka don't mix for me. So...in order to entertain myself and stay relevant to the conversation, I made some snide comments about M.S. to the Lesbian girl I sit next to. We giggled a lot, like two ten year olds, as he sent daggers our way now and then.
At one point, we all wrote a haiku on a subject drawn from a hat. Now...I hope this doesn't offend, if it does, I understand. (I was almost offended, but you have to understand these are college students and the brain behind this was male...) One of the subjects someone drew was "drunk babies". I think that's wrong...of course...giving liqueur to an infant is immoral and wrong. Just in case you need that cleared up. Anyway, I say, "Oh, MS. was the inspiration for that one.." or something of the like. And of course, everyone giggles.
The whole time he's been saying things like, "You shouldn't be mean. I'm counting..that's four...you don't want to reach five, okay?" I really thought he was just playing at being "scary" because he knows about my spanko-ness.
Well, later, a few more things were said, and some people went to go eat refreshments. He comes over to my couch, and towers over it. "If I was anyone else you would be in so much trouble right now. I don't understand why you're doing this, but don't push me...etc." And the Lesbian girl next to me is cowering in sympathy-fear and awkwardness. I thought it was hilarious and wanted to tell her it was alright, but then I realized he could be serious.
"I'm so confused, I don't get it. You're not serious, are you?" I smile.
Ground out through clenched teeth. "How can you possibly not be getting this? That makes it that much worse. Explain yourself."
Me breathing fast. Mind reeling. "I..uh...uhmm...I just..Look I just understand what's going on, any of what's going on."
He closes his eyes, opens them. "Fine." Disgusted tone. "I'm not serious. I'm joking." The emphasis on the word "joking" feels like a physical slap. Spinning on his heel, he goes out the door to smoke.
I draw patterns on my notebook paper. Ask the Lesbian girl if she understands what just happened.
"No, I was too uncomfortable. I tuned out a long time ago. I didn't hear anything."
First I don't care, then I'm scared--scared I just lost a friend or have to apologize for something that I can't because I don't understand. Then I begin to seethe in anger. How dare he take such a tone with me? How dare he employ tactics that he KNOWS push my buttons, that push my sub/spanko buttons so that my mind responds immediately? It's unfair! I didn't do anything and he's messing with me, just to see if he can. ARRRRGGGGG!!!!!
Later, after we finish discussing a play, I ask M.S. , do you need a smoke break? (He always needs a smoke break; I think he needs to find a Niko-woman to help him quit). So we go outside and talk. He's not angry and is surprised I am. I make him sit down because I'm sitting, and I still don't like the feeling of him standing over me. I realize I hurt his feelings. That he is sensitive and that all my little funny comments are tearing him down. Okay. I understand. And I will be more careful in the future. I really do have a big mouth sometimes.
M.S. struggles with a deep and dark depression. His wife cheated on him, and they've been separated for two years. He's the type of guy who needs people desperately, who would physically die without contact. I can't be an intimate female in his life. So I've been trying to tear myself away a bit, with the help and support of my College Guy of course. We had a talk before the Writer's Group.
Me--" I don't want to stay late at his apartment...it could get awkward again."
Him--"Alright. If you go up, then, there will be consequences when we see each other."
"Okay, thank you. That helps a lot."
"I can tell you that whenever you need me to."
"No, that's ok, that would be really pathetic of me."
So, last night, at 1:30 am. he asks, "Can you do me a favor. Come up and watch one episode of Six Feet Under with me. One episode, and then I know you have to go and have classes in the morning."
So I resist, and all for a spanking. It was good though. It helped. Instead of watching t.v. we actually talked a bit more in the car, some insightful talking about why I was not going up with him, about why he needed people, about what he was struggling with.
All because I was threatened with a spanking....or so I'd like to think. But it's not really true. Most things that I really want to do are worth a bad spanking. But making the spanker/top disappointed in you, well, that's harder. And when it's something that you wanted to do, and the spanking threat is just there to help you stick to your word, well, that's when it works the best!