Mirror Mirror On the Wall

According to one of the principles of fung shui, you should not have a mirror facing onto your bed. One of the reasons is that it apparently it is an invitation to your bed, and can ruin a relationship. My theory was that while single, it would then be perfect to have a mirror facing my bed, and really, feng shui is not something I completely believe in, and the only way my tiny room will work in this country is if my mirror reflects my bed.

The possibility of involving another person in my relationship with Mr.Aloof has always been on the table. Not as a permanent fixture, but as an experience. Since I met him it has been a topic occasionally discussed. Like most men, the proposal always involved another woman. In the past month or so, the topic took on a more serious tone and a meandering subject began to crystallize into an actual possibility. It is the main reason that our conversations of late have taken a turn in regards to 'what is this relationship' and 'what are you to me', as I think these are critical elements when considering the politics of adding others to the bed.

Thursday, I left S&M at topshop around 6 and headed south to meet Mr.Aloof at the warehouse. There was not too much conversation, even though it had been two weeks, but there was of course some kissing and hugs. We got into the elevator and were heading up, I think to the loft, but I had to use the toilet something fierce so we stopped off at the third floor. He told me to change into what was left out, and meet him upstairs. I was somewhat surprised to see it was simply the yukata and my wrist cuffs only- as there had been discussion about my corset and skirt and I had bought and brought with me my new boots as referenced in my last post. But the ways of Mr.Aloof can be strange and fickle so I didn't think much about it and rushed to the toilet for a while, which was my actual objective at the time.

Finishing up I went upstairs and sat in the corner of the room by the radiator. The building was overall cold, and I was cold from the outside still. The loft is lined with radiators and will heat up eventually, but Mr.Aloof had been away since before xmas, so it was just warming then. He appeared after a while and told me I could stay by the radiators if I wanted and he poured and then brought me a glass of wine. He wandered about doing this and that while I drank my wine and got warm. At some point I turned to face the radiator so I could put my feet and hands directly on it, so they could try to warm up as they were the last bits of me to do so. Mr. Aloof came up behind me and played with my hair and rubbed my shoulders a bit, and then produced the blindfold and cut off my vision, and then led me to stand and moved me to somewhere in the room.

Without much preamble the yukata was removed and the small warmth I had acquired started to leave me as the chill of the room hit my bare skin. My hands were pulled forward and the cuffs secured with rope. I held them to my body as long as I could to conserve warmth, but soon they were tugged up over my head, as I was clearly standing under one of the beams. Soon I was stretched, though not too tightly, and waited. I did not have to wait long before the whip came crashing into me. I had anticipated this action and was determined to stay stubborn and stoic, but a couple of the strikes hit true and I could not help but cry out and try to dance away- for all the good it did. "I really didn't appreciate all those pictures of dogs." Mr.Aloof hissed into my ear, grabbing my body and leaning into me. "Now you can either be good, and compliant tonight, and share wine and fruit and chocolate and warmth with me, or if you feel like fighting or running you can do that, and I will catch you, and the cage is downstairs and it is VERY cold. Are you going to run K? Well, are you?". All of this was said softly in my ear as hands ran along welted skin, played with hair, and pressed me to him lifting me off the ground. I shook my head no- the thought of the cold on the ground floor and the metal cage was more than even stoic and stubborn me wanted to suffer. He pulled away from me.

"You don't have any keys to drop K. You are here as long as I say you are here. If you ever send me a picture of another fucking dog, I will be much, much, harder on you." he said to me as he went about whipping me some more. Even though some strikes hurt, and some felt delicious I could not help but smirk a little as I squirmed and yelped. I knew I would at some point send another picture of a dog. The knowledge of what irritates is a powerful and addictive thing. Eventually the lashing stopped and I strained to hear his whereabouts over the loud music. I thought perhaps he had left the loft, but then felt my arms drop slowly and knew he was releasing the rope. Removing it completely he moved me elsewhere by guiding my shoulders and we stopped. "Where are you shoes?" he asked me.

"In my bag." I replied.

"I want you to change, leave the cuffs on, and remember, the cage is downstairs and it is cold." and with that he removed my blindfold and I blinked into a bright light that I was somehow looking at as he went off, presumably to get my shoes. In front of me was my corset and skirt on a chair and a reasonably tasteful framed picture of two women together, in a more intimate fashion. My skin burned in spots where the whip had left it's funny marks so I started with the corset. It takes time to lace it fully. I was halfway through when Mr.Aloof appeared long enough to place my shoes next to me and was off again doing other things. I continued lacing until it was tied off and realized that it had not been the smartest idea to lock myself into a back straightening device before attempting to put on a skirt and shoes, though I did manage. When finished I turned and scrutinized the dark corners of the room, allowing the possibility that there was another person somewhere lurking, but there was no one. Mr.Aloof saw that I was finished and approached me. "You are so beautiful." he said as he ran his fingers along the laces and felt along my leather encasement. We stood there for a while, kissing, touching. But then the blindfold was produced again and I was once again plunged into dark. He led me away and turned me and said "Sit" as he held my back and hand and I dropped back. I landed on what I knew to be the couch. He adjusted pillows for me behind my back so I could sit up better (corsets are strange things) and handed me my glass from earlier which had been refilled with wine.

It was likely his intent was to relax me by plying me with a few glasses of wine, which I easily drank. Of course, Mr.Aloof does not know that my tolerance is high under the best of circumstances- and if I am nervous or in unfamiliar circumstances and drinking, my tolerance sky-rockets to inhuman proportions. The wine was nice, but I was no less alert or any different had I not had a few glasses. Some time passed while I drank and even over the loud music I could hear him coming and going and busying about. Eventually he returned to me and after some short messing about he spoke. To paraphrase, he said that we had a guest, that he hoped she met the criteria of what I had expressed to him I found attractive in women, that he didn't have much planned except to see what happened, and that most importantly, and reiterated more than once, if at any point I felt I needed to talk to him, or was weirded out, I simply had to let him know and he would immediately make some space and privacy to talk.

He left me then, I imagine to get her and I drank the wine I had left, considering the oddity of my life and the less conventional things I have managed to get myself into, and the fact that I found myself to be completely calm. Guarded perhaps, as I am always around strangers, but calm, and not freaked. He returned after a while and told me that M was there, stood me up, and removed my blindfold. A petite blond woman in a black dress with a blanket draped around her stood in the center of a line of candles that had not been set up in the room beforehand. She walked slowly towards us with a shy smile on her face. Standing next to the two of us, with one arm around my waist, he reached out for her with his other hand. Leaning in, he kissed me and then straightening he turned and kissed her, then led us both to the sofa where there were cushions on the ground and so we sat, and after making sure everyone had wine, so did he.

The rest of the long evening would not make sense to describe in great detail, as it was a very long evening in truth. I know myself reasonably well, being the overly-introspective person that I am. I know that in strange or new circumstances I can be withdrawn and detached. Perhaps I was for the evening, both of these things. Though to the outside eye, I was more outgoing and talkative than I have ever been in an evening with Mr.Aloof. In fact, I used the presence of a third, and the knowledge that he would not punish me in front of her (because he had said so at some point before she arrived) to be a little bit snarky and playful like I typically am in email and by text, but never in person as retribution is always much closer. The evening was fun- certainly enjoyable. And I felt.... nothing? Curiosity perhaps. Objective interest. I was not jealous in the slightest. Even as the hours ticked on and the activity became more risque, and clothing disappeared. Being fucked and watching him fuck her. Kissing him while he fucked her, touching her while he fucked her, as she touched me. The logistics of a two person blow-job was interesting and I am amazed that CJC has had a three-person, as two was hard enough to coordinate really. What can I possibly say about such an experience? It didn't freak me out. It was fun and enjoyable. And at the moment I feel no differently towards Mr.Aloof than I did before.

Perhaps that's the crux of what I am thinking about more than the activities that happened. I have known from the start that I am not 'in love' with Mr.Aloof. Perhaps if I was I would be insanely jealous and obsessed about what happened, but I'm not. I suppose I am falling under societal peer pressure when what I doubt is this. I know what I said about 'being in love' and I know how miserable it has made me when I felt it. And I know that I'm pretty happy at the moment, and enjoy not being at the mercy of my own insanity. But I wonder if that's really okay. I mean, I believe it is okay- but I'm feeling guilt, as though I should want something more from all this, or that I should have some higher goal. I don't think I actually should, but I feel like I'm letting down some greater expectation about what it means to be a normal person by not being an emotional wreck. I don't know. I'm fucking complex as Mr.Aloof is fond of saying. Thursday night was fun and I found I was okay with things that maybe the majority of society wouldn't approve of. So what's wrong with that?