What Service Looks Like

For those of you following along in other places on the Internet, I attended Bound in Boston for the first time last weekend. A truly amazing experience – hands down the best-organized con I’ve ever attended (kinky or otherwise). The energy all weekend was just spot-on…building slowly Saturday and peaking at the amazing play party where I got to DM in a room with 18 different suspension scenes going on with some of the top rope folks in the country, then a slow, steady, comfortable energy on Sunday.

Most people experienced some serious “con-drop” afterwards. For some, that drop didn’t come until days later. While I’ve rarely experienced a drop, I was pretty sure I was in for one this time because I didn’t want to leave – and after 48 hours of intense socializing, that is HIGHLY unusual for me. I also had four and five hours of sleep on Fri and Sat nights, respectively. And I had to work an 11 hour day on Monday. I was DUE for a huge drop!

I warily kept a mental eye on my mental state and managed to bluff my way through work on Mon and then a work convention on Tues and Wed (talk about your psychological whiplash!). I was sort of floating down slowly but still felt mentally wound up.

So when “A”, a sweet boy I’ve recently connected with offered to help me relax on Wed night, I took him up on the offer and picked him up on my way home Wed night.

[Now before you get your collective knickers in a twist, Internet stalkers readers, A is poly-oriented and while I enjoy his company immensely, I’m still searching for a primary partner. But I do like having A around. Keep reading and you’ll see why.]

So many guys I meet tell me they are service-oriented. Yet when I meet them, they really mean, “I’ve had this fantasy in my head about doing X for you while you do Y and Z to me”, and any variance from their “script” makes them lose interest immediately. News flash! That’s not service-oriented submission. That’s you fetishizing me. That’s cloaking me scratching your fetish itch in a guise of you “serving” me.

But A…ah…A gets it. He’s truly wired to make others happy and while yes, we’ve discussed his fetishes (and mine), he’s proven perfectly able to follow my lead, my direction, and not put his own wants at the forefront, beyond his desire to please me in whatever way I dictate.

On Wednesday, this meant I wanted clam strips and a Guinness at my favorite Irish pub. So off we went where I promptly monopolized the conversation by rambling on about Bound in Boston, the work convention, D/s, dating, and anything else that popped into my wound-up brain. A listened. Not a hint of impatience. His responses indicated he was paying attention 100% to me and what I was saying. We ended up having a fantastic conversation about  feminism and D/s and a multitude of other things.

And as we talked and talked, I felt my tension begin to unwind and as the words flowed out of my mouth and into his patient and waiting mind, I felt all the pent-up energy begin to spool out of me and into his smiling face.

We went back to my place where he waited for my instruction to remove my socks and begin to massage my sore feet (four days of convention walking in five days meant tired feet!). This is significant because A is (among other things) really into feet. But he waited. Patiently. Until I asked him to attend to my feet.

We moved into the bedroom a while later where he continued to be one of the more attentive lovers I’ve had. Zero focus on his own needs beyond his need to make me happy and relaxed. There was no PIV sex – that wasn’t the point. Orgasm (even mine) wasn’t the goal – simply making me feel good and cared for was. I continued to feel the remaining tension and con-energy just spool out of me and I floated gently back down to myself. Where I was able to regather myself and regain my center again.

When potential partners ask how they can serve me – THIS is the sort of thing I mean. But it’s the sort of thing I don’t want to have to spell out and dictate. When a partner “gets” it, “gets” me, and knows intuitively how to serve me – how to bring to me what I need, be that an energy, a touch, or a cup of coffee….THAT is service.

What does service look like to you, dear stalker reader? Tell me in the comments.

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