To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny.
“You’re an addict.”
The words rolled calmly off his tongue. His eyes glistened. He was gauging my reaction. Wasn’t he?
“Your addictive behavior is counterproductive to the situation you say you want to achieve.”
Is he calling me out? Is he joking? His eyes gave nothing away.
Our relationship was still new. We were still finding the boundaries and give-and-take of a dominant and submissive relationship. It was a delicate journey across a tightwire and I tried not to look down as I proceeded slowly. I wanted to run. But I walked, placing each step deliberately. Logic governing emotion at each cautious step.
I took a sip of water because my mouth had gone dry.
“What do you mean?” I asked him, trying to mirror his tone.
“You say you want to serve me, yet your actions show you want to serve yourself.”
I blinked as my mind reeled, trying to see where this was going.
“I’m talking about your time. It’s like currency and you choose how to spend it. You choose trivialities rather than choosing to serve me.”
“Trivialities?” I thought to myself that I hadn’t played Trivial Pursuit in ages, but then pulled myself back to the here and now.
“You are addicted to this blog nonsense.”
I felt the heat grow in my cheeks.
As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted my tone.
“Oh, aren’t you?”
An attempted save that I hoped hadn’t swerved too far across the fine line. The honorific, up until that point, had only been used when he was spanking or whipping or caning or fucking me.
“Then show me. Stay away from that world for three weeks.”
Is it 21 days to make a new habit? Isn’t that what they say?
I blinked, looking into his eyes.
The next days seemed to drag on as I felt the aimlessness of my wandering. I started to wonder if maybe he was right. I challenged myself, not knowing if I could or would really do it. I wondered if he was being so blatant as to test me. I wouldn’t lose. He had become my adversary and I simply wouldn’t let him win.
At least not for 12 days. I was yearning to know what I’d been missing. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt. Right? A delicious sense of anticipation bubbled up inside me as I quickly skimmed. A fun crossword puzzle, the Sex Blogger Funnies, something new called Blog World. I know that you know… damn, that’s hot. The beach in Hawaii.
I even started to answer comments that kind, caring folks left on my now-silent blog. Privately, of course. I knew he would be checking. I made excuses. I told them I’d be back.
Day 15 arrived with an unexpected visit. He’d had plans to be out of town, but the meeting was cancelled and here he was on my sofa. I sat at his feet. He played with my hair as we watched a movie we’d both seen.
There was an undercurrent here. Just under the surface, but filling up the space around us.
“Bring me your laptop.”
Feeling guilty, I went to get it. Resentment quickly battled its way into my mind. Why has he made me choose? I knew exactly what would happen. He’d turn it on, then look at my browser’s history. It would all be there. Breadcrumbs leading the way.
I took my place at his feet again and waited an eternity.
“You are an addict. I knew you wouldn’t last. I knew you’d fail.”
I felt cold and steel-like as the feelings I’d started – tried – to develop for him retracted like a red carpet being rolled up. Logic, who had been my friend off and on throughout the past few weeks cried out loudly now. “Nip this right now!”
I stood up. I didn’t belong at his feet. And as the words rose inside me, they bypassed the decision-making part of my brain and headed straight for my lips. The decision-making part of my brain just stood there and waved at the words as they went by, encouraging them.
“I may be an addict, but you’re a dick.”
It wasn’t spiteful or hurtful. It was just the truth. The truth just sounds different.
He left then, without speaking another word.
I made myself a cup of hot chocolate and, feeling giddy again, sat down with my laptop to catch up.