Outside the comfort zone
Those of you who have been following me for years, have read my book, etc., know that I have a bit of exhibitionism in me. I love playing in front of others. I’m obviously not camera-shy. And years ago, I sashayed down the bike path at a local park in the moonlight, wearing nothing but heels and stockings. So I guess, buried deeply within my careful and meticulously planned self, there’s a teeny part that enjoys taking a little risk too.
However, one place where I’ve never taken risks is where I live. Yes, I play inside my apartment and I’m sure neighbors have heard and wondered. But outside my door, I don’t mess around. John used to love to do naughty things in my hallway when we were leaving or coming home, like pull up my skirt, or loudly smack my butt. To these I would jerk away and hiss, “I have to live here!” Same thing with Steve. He always makes like he’s going to pull me out the door in nothing but my underwear (or less), and I parrot that identical phrase to him.
Yesterday, after we were done with a very thorough hand spanking, Steve said, “We’re going to go a little outside your comfort zone today.” My first reaction was to tense up, on the defensive. “Look at me,” he said, and I did. “It will take about five seconds. Will you trust me?” How bad could it be if it only took five seconds, I thought. Slowly, I nodded.
He got his camera ready, took off my top (my pants were already off, obviously), and told me to go into the corner by the door and strike a pose with my arms over my head. Ummm… OK. Didn’t see the harm in this, since I’ve done it many times before.
“Good,” he said. Then he unlocked and cracked open my front door. “Now go and do the same thing in the hall.”
I stepped back. No way. With all those doors that could open any second?
He didn’t order; he knows that’s not my style. He convinced. “I can hear if someone is coming, and if I hear a door opening, I’ll push you back inside,” he said. “I’ll go into the hall first, make sure the coast is clear. Then I’ll say ‘ready, set, go,’ you jump out, I’ll snap a picture and you can dash back inside.” Again, he asked, “Will you trust me?”
That’s when my mind clicked over. This wasn’t about exhibitionism. This was an exercise in trust. I knew I didn’t have to do it if I really didn’t want to, if I didn’t feel safe, if I was afraid. And that’s exactly why I did it. Because I do trust him.
So when he gave me the cue, I scooted out the door, struck a pose, and as soon as I heard the camera click, I was back in my living room, my heart pounding.
He was right; it didn’t take more than a few seconds. But it pleased him so much. And yeah, I was a little thrilled too. I’ve forgotten lately what it’s like to let go, be a little crazy.
We then headed into the bedroom for my “reward.” No, not that kind of reward. I’m a spanko, remember? This kind of reward.
And then all was well in my little world for a while.
In other news, John is now up to walking for an hour twice a day. Of course, after each one, he is exhausted and has to take a nap, but it’s progress. I’m looking forward to when he can get some of his tone and muscle back. He’s so very thin right now…
Back to work with me. Happy hump day.