Sensual Sadist

Yes, this is going to be an entry on drinking piss. I just thought I’d clear that up.

A couple of nights ago pet was wanting to drink my piss. He wanted to surprise me with the offer - a routine trip to the bathroom would have ended in a loving act of dominance and submission. A symbolic gesture, you might like to say.

Unfortunately things fell apart. If anything I learned how intensely personal and intimate the acts we perform are, yes, even for the dominant/sadist! My attempts to take control of the situation seemed to make him more distant, almost cocky rather than submissive.

When I told him to lick my boots before he drank my waste matter he was visibly displeased. I was slipping out of topspace faster than an anvil and at the same time wanted to slap him.

Yet he was trying so hard to do this thing for me. Perhaps too hard. And still my voice guides his tongue to the bottom of my boots.

I ask if he would prefer to be bound. I’d prefer it that way. He replies no. Really I just want to make this easy and sexy for him. For the first time to be memorable…

Then it was time for him to drink. Oh, how he drunk! I wanted to hide my face. To be somewhere else too! I have laughed deeply over this in retrospect because it’s so wonderfully absurd after the fact, but I was very much offended by how quickly and unceremoniously he downed my piss. He drunk the full half-pint without stopping for breath. I’m certain none of it touched the sides of his throat and gullet.

You’re not supposed to enjoy it, of course, but the whole thing left me in a strange space, slightly disturbed, and not in the pleasantly sadistic way I imagined it.

He returned after the antiseptic gargle. I thank him, tell him I’m pleased he did it anyway. He was cold and withdrawn, not responding to my touch. Eventually he began to snap out of it but then he made the final error which was to remove his collar swiftly and without thought, something we’d agreed I would only be doing apart from in an emergency.

After all of this I just felt bad. Somewhat useless. Pet explained how he had idealized the notion of drinking my piss all day, how he had built up a perfect fantasy in his mind and that whilst he would never expect me to perform a sequence of events like some fetish vending machine, he’d got caught up in not being able to see the wood for the trees. I was on the verge of tears and his cheeks had become shiny.

It took me a while before I was able to be anything other than cold and motherly in a distant kind of way. I felt so many different emotions, including anger, but I wasn’t angry at him.

Pet messed up. I tried to take control of the situation, but it seemed like it wasn’t meant to be. At the end of the day, he’s drunk my piss, and that is a start. And I’ve learned how delicate, sacred, profound and revolting what we do is. I know why sadomasochism isn’t for the many. It’s complicated, difficult, ugly, tricky and sexy.

p.s: Some of you may be tempted to judge Richard, perhaps even myself. Feel free to do this. We are beyond that kind of reaction ourselves and won’t be swayed by your opinions.