Becoming a Plate

I should have known there were other motives than the what I saw on the surface for this date….

I’m certain most of you have heard of the live sushi plates and while I have seen it on T.V., I had never BEEN the plate.

As I laid there naked, every limb was placed just the way he wanted it. One leg bent, to hold the ginger on my knee, while my other leg and arms were placed just so to hold the other morsels of sushi for us to enjoy. Wasabi… right in the belly button*. Oh yeah, that felt incredibly strange… and I loved it.

When everything was placed and instructions were given about not dropping our dinner, the questions began. This is the part that I didn’t see coming. What is the best way to keep someone in place so they can’t run from questions about past emotional traumas?  Make them become a plate.

There were times when I felt the urge to just sit up and be done, I won’t lie. Talking about that shit isn’t easy, but I’ve learned during this year that he always has a purpose for asking and I can’t always see what the answer is. We paused at times so I could breathe and regroup, we ate, and there was the occasional giggle over how it feels to have morsels dipped into my belly button for a touch of Wasabi.

By the end, we learned more about each other. My Poly Dom will rarely ask me things and not share his own experiences. While it made me sad to learn we have more in common than I would have wished, I also know that it makes those wonderful hugs more precious. I didn’t spill our dinner, only a few tears.

 

*For those that care to know, the Wasabi didn’t burn, just tingled a little. Although it was only there for 45min or so, my belly button was still bright red the next day. 🙂

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s