(16) Planning A Weekend Session

(note: this was originally posted 03/05 on Blogger)

I’m flying back to New York next weekend to spend some quality time with Heinrich.  

       I would write your daily blog posts ahead of time, if I were you, he says.  That way you will be able to post on time, even should you have not the inspiration for writing!  

        What should I write about….?  I ask.

        Anything you want!  You could tell them about what you have asked me to do to you.  The fun one, that is not so personal.  Who knows, what anecdotes a reader might share?

         Heinrich and I talk almost every day.  We email almost every day.  He has me reading a lot–things about the freelance writing industry, left-wing blogs where I could start publishing political opinion again, stuff that I need to put together a copywriting portfolio.  He wants me to start posting sample query letters on my blog to ask readers for input.   He wants me to start posting sample pitches: Zere are many talented musicians playing ze jingles for ze TV commercials!  Corporate writing pays ze bills.  

           Then there’s the fun stuff.

           I’ve had some interesting Tops over the years.  I don’t like comparing them because it’s not a competition, and I think it’s both useless and impossible to rank dominants on a linear scale.  Each one has his own flavor, his own skill set to bring to the table.  Each has his own style and energy.  It has also been instructive for me to consider the passions, the response that I bring out in each man.  Good submissives are like good ballroom dance partners: they make the other person look much better; they improve the other’s performance.        

         Heinrich is unique in that he is the few male tops I’ve met who takes this shit as seriously as I do.  By that I mean: he took it upon himself to study sadomasochism.  Read the books, hired or sought out the teachers, bought the tools, and went to practice.  And not just the Herculean effort a single heterosexual man has to make in order to potentially have the type of kinky sex and relationships he’s drawn towards.  Heinrich wanted to learn how to do shit right. There are just not many heterosexual male doms that pursue this type of activity…like it was a hobby.  Or a fixation.   Abduction Weekend was very well-choreographed.     

          Heinrich and I bat fantasy ideas back and forth.  This is something apart from growing intimacy and closeness in our relationship (although sharing fantasies is part of that, too…but at that level, it has to be done much more slowly, carefully).  Batting fantasy ideas back and forth is something we have been able to do from the beginning.  It’s ideas for a session, basically.  The same thing I did for clients, at work, only this time it’s more personal, because I’m doing it for me.  It is my fantasy, my session, my idea.  My obsession. 

            “How do you see it happening?”  Heinrich asks.  We’ve been exchanging ideas about this one for a while.  He is learning about me, studying me through this.  He asks questions.  There are no right or wrong answers.  

            “It’s always some scary fucker, come to your house with bad news.  Isn’t that how it always happens?  Usually somebody in a suit or a uniform.  Your dad dies in the war, or the police have come to claim him.  The landlord wants you out.  Half your family members got a knock in the middle of the night, and now it’s your turn.  Authority with bad news.”

            “But nothing specific.  No script in your head.”

            “I don’t know why he’s there when he shows up.  But he knows why he’s there.  He knows all about it.  I get to find out.”

             “Is he angry with you?  What do you think he thinks of you?”  his voice is soft.  The voice of a man imagining things.  Picturing things.  

             It’s interesting, you know, the way your fantasies can change shape or direction, depending on who’s in them.  The other person takes the material and makes it their own.  What are they good at?   What would they like to do in that situation?  

              I think about Heinrich.  His personality.  What’s he like, when he comes to your door to ruin your life?  Does he smile when he does it?  Does he act like your friend at first?  

             “Not angry.  Contempt.  Motivated in his cruelty by impersonal professional ambition.”  

              “I see.  I see very well.  You are doing fine.  Violent?  Or more of ze talking?”

              I laugh softly.  “Well, you know.  In the end, it’s always violent.  But it’s not right away, and it’s not what you’d expect.  A man like this is not going to slap your face and knock you on the floor.  It’s something more professional, more devastating.  But first, the fear.”  

              “I already have sometink in mind for zis.  Zis one vill be fun.  I vill call you with more questions.  I vant you to tell me anytink about this.  We can add it, yes?”

             When I do BDSM for myself, it’s almost never role-play scenarios like this.  The fantasies are usually about activities, pain, the dynamic.  In my relationships, when there’s a “scene”–though it’s not a scene in my mind, it’s usually just the way I have sex, whether that involves intercourse or not–there’s almost never any acting involved.  The power dichotomies are real, the differences between us are real.  The pain, the domination, are not theater.  

               This one, that I’m working out with Heinrich, is going to be a little different.  Like Abduction Weekend, where it’s a fantasy of mine, that’s actually going to be happening.  The other person is going to be Heinrich, a man that I actually know and care about, rather than Some Scary Fucker In Authority There to Ruin My Life…but I don’t know what he’s going to do.  So it is a bit like being there with a stranger, after all.  It’s difficult to describe to people who don’t do this sort of thing.  

               The reader might be wondering: if it’s my fantasy, what does he get out of it?  What’s in it for him?

               Well, it’s FUN, first and foremost.  It fucking beats Netflix any day of the week.  He also gets to get to know me better…and himself better.  He gets reciprocity: we trade these things.  

           And at some point in this, the suffering will be for him.   He’ll get his.  

           I’ll know it when it happens, though I probably won’t know until it’s time.  This session will happen sometime this weekend, when I visit.  Sometime between Thursday night and Monday morning, when I leave.  It will be a surprise.  It’s better that way, if I don’t (entirely) see it coming.  

             He comes to the door, the stranger.  Your fantasy made real.  He has plans for you.  There is no escape. 

             Your teacher has come to your house. 


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