23 October 2007

Time Escapes

It's not that there haven't been things to write about, but it's more that I haven't found the time to sit down and do any writing.

I spend my days in a haze at work. Staring at my screen and wishing I was home. My evening time is too short to get done the things I need to and to relax. And then I'm back at work. My weekends have been packed full, and my upcoming weekends are packed full.

There is supposed to be a Friday night encounter with Mr.Aloof. But we'll see if that comes to fruition.

Thursday is going to be girls night in and karaoke which should be lots of fun.

Saturday I'm going to a performance of the Carmina Burana at the Royal Albert Hall.

Sunday I'm getting a haircut. I was supposed to get one this past weekend, but my stylist was sick. So instead I only got the color and now next weekend I'm getting the cut. But all at a 10% discount, so that's all okay!

And in the meantime even though I'm doing all these things with friends, I'm missing other friends and dinners and birthday celebrations and that sort of sucks.

I'll write something more interesting, when there is something more interesting to write. In the meantime, check out the latest article.

The Voyeuristic Nudes of Edgar Degas
The Art of Love

12 October 2007

The New Article

It's going to be a regular weekly thing I'm guessing, but I'll probably keep posting all my articles here (as well as a couple of other places) since I'm still just so darn exuberant about them. Go check out:

The dark erotic photography of Aaron Dunn
The Art of Love

(But also don't miss the new pornalong post below either since I don't usually post more than once in a day... if you're at all into porn that is... *smirk*)

Pornalong - Anonymous Encounter

On Tuesday I got a text from Mr.Aloof asking if I was up for the task in the evening of wearing my new hood to see just how long I could wear it for. Having tried my hood before, I texted back the question if there was anything else to the task. The addition of a gag was requested, I deemed the task challenging enough, and the game was afoot.

Tuesday night after doing all the things I needed to, I prepared everything I needed and sent a text that I was starting with the gag. It's been a while since I've worn a ball gag, and it was difficult at first. I had to calm down and adjust. Then I texted that I was putting on the hood, and then I settled into my experience.

The total time spent in this fashion was one and a half hours and included two intense orgasms as well as a brief spot of texting at the hour mark. Wednesday morning I sent an email to Mr.Aloof about what the experience had been like, the things that had crossed my mind. One of which had been the idea of receiving a text that said after reading I was to put the hood back down, and make my way to the front door and answer it when there was a knock. I didn't really think of much more than that, but the premise excited me. Apparently, not just only me.

On Wednesday Mr.Aloof asked for plans on Thursday and was otherwise very quiet which didn't seem exactly in keeping. On Thursday there was also not so much text. Then I got an email asking to meet at Leicester Square. To which I agreed (albeit disappointingly but not entirely surprised) and then after a couple emails discussing the particulars of that arrangement I got another email saying there was a change of plan, and that I was to be at home at 10pm with my gag and hood at the ready, and to await further instructions.

To be fair there was a bit of side conversation at this point of my asking if he was really sure because I was unsettled by the back and forth and changes. But he insisted it was all to schedule and then said there would be no more email. So that was it.

Work was exceptionally busy, so this was all very distracting (but only in the nicest of ways). I knew that what I had written had excited him, had given him ideas. And I liked that.
Later in the day I got an email saying something about 'them' arriving at my house. Of course I wrote back questioning the use of 'them' and got a noncommittal response to which I sent a non-committal response. I also knew that there was no way that he would ever put me in any danger, and that I trusted him. So whatever was going to happen would be safe, but probably unexpected and to me at least, exciting.

On the way home the mind-fuck was elaborated as he texted asking for my full address as a 'reminder'. And to let him know when I was home. And to arrange the house as requested. And the occasional 'tick-tock' text. It was a bit surreal. I usually say that I don't like when my imaginations become reality because they are never as good as I imagine them. So it was strange to know that something I had described was likely to occur. Of course my description ended at the opening of the door. What would happen next? Who would appear? I didn't doubt that Mr.Aloof could arrange more than one person to appear on short notice. There is C, who I have met twice before, and then there was B, but I don't think he'd be making a reappearance. Then there was 'the driver' who I didn't meet, but heard instead one night when I was locked in a cage. Of course there is also T, and there are potentially other women in the playlist who I have not met before. But I did know with certainty that another person could be arranged and was likely. How thrilling and terrifying all at once. But like I said, I trust Mr.Aloof. So I knew whomever it was would be fine, but still, I just didn't know what would happen.

At eight I got instructions for ten. That appropriate bass laden music was to be on both upstairs and downstairs, that I was to be naked aside from my green leather, and that the hood and gag should be readily available and I should be thinking about my box and the potential future uses for it. More 'tick tock' texts. And I was ready far too early and could concentrate on nothing else. I could do nothing else, but wait. I tried to distract myself and it didn't work. At ten I got a 'tick tock' text and almost went mad. And then five minutes later I got a text instructing me to masturbate.

Not really needing much encouragement I figured that was a reasonable task. But I did manage to text one handed 'to what point?' and got no answer. Masturbation being a skill I perfected at a young age, it really wasn't long at all before I knew that I could reach the target so I texted asking if I could come since there had been no response to the first text. After what seemed like forever, I got a 'not yet'. Hideous. This is something that usually takes me less than a minute. Now it had been ten. Torture! I texted 'please!' but again got no response. After some minutes passed I texted 'please?!' again- and after a small wait got the go ahead. It took a bit of extra build up, but was long and intense. It was now 10:25 or so. Soon I got a text telling me to put on my gag and make sure it was tight. So I texted back compliance. Then I got a text saying that 'they would be there soon'. A little bit later I got a text saying to go to the front door, put my hood on, and when there was a knock on the door, to open it, and they were on their way.

So I went downstairs, put the hood on over the gag and collar, and waited in my hall. And waited. And waited. It felt like forever. Was it really forever or did it just feel that way? Were all of these minutes really just seconds? It's very hard to say. After what seemed like forever and ever to the point where I wondered if I should check my phone, I heard footsteps on the walkway. Heels. A woman. And there was a knock on the door. I fumbled for the latch, having moved my hand off it at some point, and when I turned it and went for the handle I could feel that someone on the other side had their hand on the handle as well. As I twisted down the handle, it was pushed from the other side, and the door was pushed open. I shrank back in my blindness and was immediately grabbed by the back of the neck, by the strap of the gag and the collar around my neck and I was pushed down to the ground, flat. There were two people I sussed- a man and a woman. I waited.

I didn't have to wait long, I was unceremoniously dragged back up to standing in my hallway. Pushed against the wall, inspected, grabbed, groped. They didn't say anything at all. No words were uttered. No noises. The only sound were their movements, footsteps and the sounds I made. I was spun around and pushed into a corner. Again to wait. Still no sounds. And I wasn't fighting what was happening. I was curious and excited. I found it thrilling. Soon I was grabbed harshly again by the collar and dragged into the lounge and pushed down to the floor on my lovely rug. Tiny drops of water landed on me. Soft fingers tickled and brushed along my skin. Nails scratched down my back. And then something snapped on my bottom. And then again. And I went to squirm and was pushed back down to the ground by the second set of hands. The beating continued.

After some time of beating and touching and stimulating I was pulled up to sitting and the hood was folded up to just below my nose. The gag was removed. And then I think the gag was replaced. I was spun around to face the other direction. Pushed down, pulled up. Still not a word from my abusers. The only sounds I heard were the ones I made and the music, which they had turned up even louder.

There is no way for me to put in order the many things that happened. After not so long I was sure that it was Mr.Aloof and T who were there. See, I always knew that whoever it would be, that Mr.Aloof would be present. Even if he never touched me himself or made himself known to me, I knew he would be present. And even though he avoided being too close to me so any telltale signs of his person impressed upon me, I knew without doubt that it was he, and with a brush of hair and a waft of smoke and perfume I knew that it was T with him. But still they said nothing and I never made to address them, only did as I was bade.

There was licking and sucking and fucking and beating and scratching. I was impaled and pinned and gasping for breath between the gag and the hood and the hardness of the floor. I was directed to suck, and it was useful to have the real thing to work with, again and again. I was dragged back to the hallway, made to drink from a bowl on the floor, prostrated. Gag on and gag off, beaten and fucked. Not once did they say anything. And my hood was never removed, only pulled up enough to access my mouth and pulled back down.

After all of this intensity I was once again dragged into the hall and pushed to the floor. But prior to that I had heard the sounds of collecting and picking up. She stroked me lightly before I was dragged to the hall, and kissed me. I felt them brush past me, walking around my body, and I heard the door close (though not locked properly). I waited a bit to make sure what I thought was true, slowly sat up, peeled up the hood. My flat was empty save me. A bowl on the floor before me. My crop in the lounge. My gag on the stair. My body sore and buzzing and lightly marked. I cleaned up the little there was to straighten, and went to bed at just around half past midnight.

In the morning I got an email from Mr.Aloof saying he was sorry he couldn't be there last night. Usually I'm not one to enjoy the imaginary scenario. I know that it was him and T, and I'm sure he is aware that I know full well that it was him and T, but to say it to him would be to shatter the illusion of the evening that was created. And so it is an evening of anonymity and some of my more intimate fantasies fulfilled.

I wrote to him a pondering- have you ever woken from a dream that seemed so very real that you had to convince yourself for a moment that it was all in your head? It was almost as if this was my very situation in reverse.