Take Me Riding in the Van

A bit of a ramble before I got get packed for my weekend. Heathrow is supposed to be here around 8ish to pick me up and take me to the far south west. Or at least, I think that's where we're going. My UK geography is abysmal.

I realize that I'm really struggling with aspects of his personality, our interaction, and my history. Currently this is embodied in how plans are made, and the desire for making plans is expressed.

I come with baggage in this area. I've said it more than once already, but I feel the topic deserves yet another post. I have always been predisposed to thinking that things are 'my fault' and that if something doesn't go how I wanted it to go, it had something to do with something I did or didn't do, or could have done differently. This is something I've talked about in therapy- and I recognize that it's an inherently false belief. I don't know how I got it, or where or when it developed. Probably in my childhood, because it's been with me as long as I can remember.

So it's unfortunate that this led me to be involved with someone like Mr.Aloof- who instead of saying he didn't want to see me, said there was something wrong with me for being too needy, too demanding, wanting too much. And of course when he said these things, it resonated with my secret inner voice that hissed, "See, I told you so..." and it was easy for me to accept.

Worse than accept, it reinforced my already bad tendencies into actual behavior. I became worried or afraid of expressing my desire to see someone or be with someone, because I started off thinking it was risky, and then learned over time through outside reinforcement, that it was actually bad.

But now I am not with Mr.Aloof and I am trying to carve a path through what is for me, uncharted territory, and this particular issue is rearing up again and again. First it was in the incident I referenced here. Which turned out not as I expected, but was still difficult for me in the process. Then I talked about it again here, but somehow it's not enough.

The past two weeks have been an exercise in the same. Last week during our regular chatty email exchanges, I had said to Heathrow asking about plans to meet up and he was slow to respond, and when he did, although he agreed it could be cool, didn't express... enthusiasm. This ended up with us not meeting up last weekend, though that didn't bother me necessarily- that we didn't meet up, it set me up for one week of being the one to ask to see him and it not happening.

Then this week came around and he mentioned in our ongoing email exchange that he was thinking he'd go to the club on Saturday night (which had been the starting point for talk of meeting up both the weekend before and this weekend). So I wrote back saying that was cool, but I wanted to see him out of club time too- maybe either the day before, or the day after. Now this was responded to with a positive comment of "I'd like to see you outside of club time too." So this is what I mean when I say that the responses I get from him are not the same as my past. But still....

I don't think I can adequately express how uncomfortable this makes me. I try not to let my discomfort come through, and I haven't said anything to him about it, but I realize it's a severe unpleasantness to feel like I'm putting myself out there like that. Then on Wednesday I laid out what I thought were the options for the weekend, and asked what he wanted to do. I'm sure on some level I made it a complicated issue, though in reality it just had to do with what day to spend together and whether he came here or I went there (and 'there' having two possible outcomes). So okay, maybe that was confusing. But after I sent it on Wednesday, he said something about how he was going to sort out the weekend.

And then I waited.

And waited.

And last night I was feeling pretty tense about the whole thing because I didn't want to say anything else about it. Especially after he said he'd work out what the plan was but it was going to be Friday and the first option for plans started with Friday night, so it was cutting it all a bit close and I felt insecure and anxious and uncomfortable.

So I went to the gym this morning and when I got back and showered I turned on my computer and there was an email from him saying that he didn't want to go to the club but I could come hang out with him for the weekend if I wanted and he could pick me up Friday night and drop me off Sunday.

So that's good right? But part of me still cringes. Where was the 'and I want to see you' element to his writing? But then I have to remind myself, he's a boy. And boys, or at least, a certain brand of boy just don't think like that. I had to lecture myself that he wasn't offering to come all the way to my house in the van to pick me up AND to drop me off just to make me feel better. He wouldn't offer to do those things unless it was something he wanted to do. And also, I had only suggested spending one day of the weekend together and here he'd upped it to the whole weekend.

But it's hard for old habits to die. It's so very hard for me not to still feel insecure. If only it was tempered with reassurance- but then THAT makes me feel needy and horrible. That I need reassurance that someone who just said they want to spend the whole weekend with me needs to reassure me that they really mean it. It's just that the way it was said doesn't negate my own insecurities.

This is going to be a tough nut to crack. I can tell. But I'm hanging in there and working on it. That's all I can say.

(Well that, and I'm really looking forward to the weekend!!! :) )

Playing Around

The weekend before last, when I was with Heathrow and we went to the Peer rope workshop, the last person who tied me was this guy M. M had made a point of talking to Heathrow when we first arrived and encouraged us to drop our stuff with their stuff in the area they had staked out, which we ended up doing.

One of the best things about IC- for all that everyone complains about it, is that it's a really good reference for meeting people out in the kink scene. You get to talking to someone, etc etc, and eventually, "Are you on IC?" and of course everyone is so then follows, "So what is your name there?" and as often as not someone is recognizable, and sometimes they are only recognizable when you go look at their profile later.

So as we were leaving, M and I have this very same exchange and promise to look each other up online, as you do. And we did. And we've been email chatting ever since. We have some things in common, and share a slightly off sense of humor so conversation has continued at a fairly intensive rate.

Towards the end of last week, Friday I think it was, M said something about bringing me some of the best roast duck in London (he's Chinese) and I didn't think much of it but of course was also intrigued by someone making such a bold gesture within a week of knowing me. He texted to say that he'd call me later about the duck, but I couldn't tell if he was serious and didn't think too much of it.

At 11pm he texted me to ask if I'd eaten. I had eaten, and said as much and he said that was too bad, because he would have brought me duck. Which led to us texting back and forth a bit and then a phone call that turned into another phone call and before I knew it, we'd chatted on the phone until 5am. Needless to say, this didn't do very good things for my Saturday. But that's not really the point. The point is more I stayed on the phone chatting to a person I'm just getting to know until 5 in the morning. Although the last three hours I was in bed with my eyes closed, still.

So Monday the story sort of repeated itself. And although I had eaten, said that M could come over if he wanted but not to stay until 5am. So I gave him directions as he drove from Kings Cross and then he was here, with two containers- one of roast duck and one of roast pork. I had some rice from my dinner and put together some plates, a normal one for him and a taster one for me and we were just hanging out and chatting and eating pork and duck.

And at some point I should somehow insert into this conversation, that of course I met M at a kink event and M goes to clubs and of course this has been some of the conversation we've been having. In particular, M's current fascination is with whips, and he has four, or five (can't remember), made by someone on the scene for him. So he brought these whips with him and at some point in the kitchen, perhaps after the meal, so now around midnight, he was swinging it while I was doing dishes and tap tap tapping at my back and backside, over my clothes.

In the lounge, he was showing me the different whips and discussing technique, though my lounge isn't quite the right height for him to use the longest one. And somehow at some point I was leaning away over the far side of my sofa, and I knew that I was presenting a target, and part of me wants to say it wasn't really intentional, and in some ways it wasn't, and in some ways it was. Because in the doing of whatever I was doing (something on my computer I think) it occurred to me I was presenting a target, and I chose to see what happened.

And things happened. Whipping happened. Although that sounds more dramatic than it actually is. At least in the hands of someone who knows what they're doing. There isn't such a huge difference between a whip or a flogger or even a spanking, though I'd say the whip has the potential to be more sharply cutting, like a cane or a belt. It also can be thuddy and soft if the tail is changed (and it was), so it's more about the variety of the experience in a way.

At some point into this exercise he told me to take my shirt off. I'd like to say that he asked me to, but he didn't. He told me to. And I could have declined, but I didn't. So the game continued. He had smattered so much of my back at that point that he said he wanted to make the entire thing an equal shade of red (well, I have to take his word on it, I couldn't see it) and he did and I sort of zoned out and enjoyed the experience.

And then he was behind me, touching my back, and giving me a massage which led to a proper sort of massage which was very nice indeed. It's one of those things that isn't exactly sexual, but has sexual overtones. Which is probably what makes me feel slightly caught off by the whole experience. Because sexually, at the moment, I'm not really interested in other people, I'm somewhat fixated on Heathrow. But I realize that this is somewhat in conflict with my activities this month. I swear, if January is any indication of 2009, this is going to be one hell of a year.

But I digress.

So there we were, me shirtless, and him holding me and that was cool. Sort of an end to the play. And I know I put my shirt back on at some point because I needed something from the kitchen (and the walkway goes past my kitchen window so it's good not to be in a bra in the kitchen). And I came back and we were chatting some more and really probably some time passed, but I can't remember the blow by blow details, but I do know that I was being snarky (I know, big surprise) and he grabbed me and we were sort of wrestling at one point and he knows these pressure point things and ended up with his hands pressing into the underside of the back of my jaw trying to make me say something I didn't want to say.

Which was another little scene of activity, one I tend to be drawn to. Forcing and capitulation. Although I'm stubborn. So this became quite the battle of wills, and endurance. I was struggling as best I could, though it wasn't easy, and if my hands drifted to try to grab his away he would dig in which made me stop. I know at one point I shoved us so hard, we both fell off the couch, but he didn't lose grip, and eventually I gave in and he released me.

And the rest of the evening was spent talking about stuff, about me and Heathrow (who he obviously knows- but then most people at least know who Heathrow is, if they don't know him personally). And it was cool, and he went back to showing me his whips and cracking them and part of me wondered if the neighbors were going to kill me or if they wondered what the hell was going on with whip cracking at four in the morning, or really, what the hell that strange noise was at four in the morning.

And at 5 or so he left. Today, two days later, the back of my jaw is still tender to the touch, and I think I have some faint red marks on my back- though the worse ones actually were made through my jeans (which never came off).

I guess I haven't written about this yet because I'm sort of confusing myself a bit with what the hell is going on with my life. First the photographer, and now this, and all overlaid with things with Heathrow and I feel ever so slightly out of control, while understanding that I am fully in control of everything that is going on. I don't really know what the rules are. I think if I had to sit down and truly analyze it, what I would say is that if I could just see and be with Heathrow, then that would be great and I wouldn't want or need any other involvements. But there's this distance and uncertainty in what is going on. And then there's the oddity that because of his scene involvement, he will always play with other people. So what does that mean for me? Do I get to play with other people without it upsetting him? But as the bottom in such scenarios, I can see that it's more troubling. It's one thing to top other people, it's another thing to submit to them. I just don't know where the line is. Is it a sexual line? Is it an intimate line? Is it close in? Is it far out?

The thing is, I really don't want to screw up any potential with Heathrow, but I also have to be looking out for myself. He told me he doesn't want a relationship- isn't in the right place for a relationship. And on the one hand I think that if we aren't in a relationship then he has no say over what else I may or may not get up to. But on the other hand, I can't be involved with or interested in someone and not take into account their feelings. Because I certainly wouldn't want to hurt him, or by default, ruin any future possibilities. Certainly I can say at this point, I have zero interest in being particularly sexual with anyone else (which is going to make for an interesting conversation with the other couple), but I'm not sure that that's where the line is.

So my fun is a bit marred by this uncertainty. Though it is all fun, it seems dangerous and turbulent. I'm hoping to see Heathrow this weekend and if so, I intend to carefully broach the subject of play in clubs and gauge his response from that- figuring that what he says about clubs I can also apply to my independent pursuits. It's complicated. I know. I certainly don't have all the answers. I'm just living my life as it comes.

Bad Training

Well, last week was fairly uneventful. I was maybe going to see Heathrow this past weekend but didn't- as he didn't come into London. I had plans all day Saturday- went to the ever awesome Broadway Market in the morning where I was met by S after spending time chatting to the pie man and the tart man (and getting a free fresh pretzel, recession special, yum yum yum). Then we walked back to my house and just caught up with life until it was time for me to head to a birthday gathering down by The Globe by London Bridge.

Sunday I just worked on my model project, image of which is for this post. Although that image will never see the client, it was for Heathrow and contains something inappropriate. I imagine if you click on it to get a larger view, you may work it out. It amused me. I haven't pulled stunts like that since grad school when we did it all the time.

So last week of emailing with Heathrow I noticed and will comment on something I mentioned before. I have been trained not to be comfortable with my desire to see someone. This is all from Mr.Aloof who was forever telling me that I was too needy and too demanding and wanted too much when the reality was I was lucky if I saw him once a month. And somehow it was wrong for me to suggest that I wanted to see him? But wrong I was and wrong I felt.

So now, now that I am pursuing another interest, and I find that I want to say things like, "I'd like to see you." and "Are you free?" I have this intense sense of wrongness about asking. As if somehow by asking I will show myself to be some sort of horrible and demanding and needy person. It's not even a fear of rejection, in some ways the rejection is implicit in my discomfort with the asking. It's an instinctual knowledge that I am imposing on someone, even though in this case it isn't true.

I keep trying to focus on what Heathrow has said to me- and more specifically what he hasn't said to me. And I am trying not to self edit myself and just say what I want and mean. And so far, his response to my suggestions have been appropriate and positive. Still, I understand that it's going to take a certain amount of unlearning before I am free of this damage.

I'm working on it. And hopefully I will see him this weekend. Since he agrees- he'd like to see me, and not just for 'club time', too.

Weekend Word Cloud

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Hard to Work

I hate working from home. Really. My home is a place for home things- for comfort, for sanctuary, for relaxation, for peace. Work doesn't really have a place in my home. I fidget. I procrastinate. I get distracted. Not that this doesn't happen when I'm sitting in an office, it's just that the percentage of opportunity is less (though probably not the percentage of desire).

I should have been working on this model all week, but I really just started late yesterday and have been getting into it today. I'm three days behind basically. I'm going to be staying up late working away on it and I'm actually afraid that what I really need to do is go back to Guys Hospital to take more photos of the space because I don't think I have enough information and I don't have any internal elevations of the space I'm modeling.

Meanwhile, I'm far more distracted by my social life than to particularly care much about my horrific work situation. Both of my parents in the past couple of days have offered me assistance should I need it- which is wonderful. I am appreciative to have a family that I can look to for support in these dire times. But as I told both of them, I'm at least four months away from any sort of critical decision making, and I really hope that in four months things are different. I can't see how I can be in the same situation in four months time, but I suppose one should never say never. Still, I'll just go sign up for some sort of secretarial contract- provided I can get one. Or fuck it, I'll go work at McDonald's. Anywhere. I don't care. If it comes to that level of disaster, there are still options.

I find Heathrow is becoming a distraction. But how can he not be? How can I have a weekend like that and not be thinking about it? Of course what I want to know is when we might be meeting up again. It's not that I think it won't happen, it's just that I want something to be looking forward to. I'm eager.

The thing is, aside from Heathrow seeing us as friends (though very good friends), I'm not sure he's a scheduler. Or if he is, I'm not entirely sure I've rated yet into his priorities. Or it's also possible he's shy (well, he is a bit). So I find I am in a position of pushing. Not in a bad way, but it's really hard for me to be the one making suggestions because I tend to take rejection so badly. Which usually means that I avoid it all together. When someone else invites you along, then it's clear they want to see you right? But I think in this case I'm being a bit silly. If I search my knowledge, I know that Heathrow likes me and wants to see me, so I should not be worried about making suggestions. If he's busy, he's busy- it's not like he's suddenly going to stop liking me because I suggest we meet up.

And yet that's precisely how I feel. Like somehow by making suggestions I come across as pushy or demanding and that he will then work out that actually he doesn't like me very much. This is what makes it a difficult thing for me to do. But I'm doing it, as uncomfortable as it makes me, because I think I should, and part of me thinks I'm being ridiculous for how it makes me feel, though I can't quite stop feeling that way just because I think it's silly. I'm pushing myself actually. To try and be more responsible and proactive. To be different. To not let myself hold me back. Is this all from therapy or is it just the right time because I've had enough of being shit on in past relationships? I'm not sure.

But I'm glad I'm doing it, even if I don't really feel comfortable doing it. It makes me feel like I've grown or learned something somehow. And it's not the end of the world to put yourself out there.

A Weekend in Parts - Sunday

So on Sunday we were much better rested and I think in good spirits. I believe we rectified the mistake of leaving him unsatisfied with more sex. Sex and messing about in the van just makes me want to laugh and laugh. I can't do it without thinking "If the van is a-rockin'..."

So we had a slow start to the morning and eventually got into the house and cleaned up and sorted and the plan was to make this roast meal. Luckily, R has two ovens so we started the potatoes in one, which had to be at one temperature, and did the beef in the other which needed to be at another. At this point I texted Ms.Woo because I'd had these sublime roast potatoes at her place last week and I thought nothing could be better than replicating them. Although ours came out close, they still weren't as good! The beef was under way and the next step was Yorkshire puddings. We had bought a Yorkshire pudding pan at Tesco and I'd looked up various recipes. We settled on the Jamie Oliver proportions and gave it a go.

What can I say? I love making Yorkshire pudding!! It's like kitchen chemistry live! The trick is to heat the oil in the pan in advance of adding the batter, then it cooks and grows up the sides into the all familiar shape. They came out perfect! I was so so so excited.

Heathrow and I wanted to do the roast for R because R is so kind and generous with his house. It really is a special friendship that the two of them have and I think they're both lucky in that. So we made R stay out of the kitchen while we got everything ready and set up the dining table. Eventually it was all prepared and we sat down for a lovely and filling meal. Heathrow cleaned up and I chatted with R and eventually there was about thirty minutes to go before we were all taking off for the Peer Rope event.

I ran upstairs and did a quick wash and put on my gym kit under my jeans and a top and Heathrow was knocking on the door telling me we had to go. We were bringing A as well who had arrived while I was upstairs so we all jumped into R's car and off we went. It took about an hour and a half or so to get there and we were about twenty minutes early and the door opened about thirty minutes late which was a shame. The car park was full of cars and people waiting but the weather was cold so everyone stayed in their cars mostly.

Eventually we got in to what was a completely different sort of space. This one was fairly large with distinct rooms and areas. Heathrow and I ended up putting our stuff with some people he knew in a corner by the stage in the main room. I recognized some people from IC and tried to spot others. As Heathrow is one of the better ropers, and it's his main motivation for attending such things, he was keen to get started and asked if I wanted to tie.

Like it was a question. We discussed briefly what sort of tie it would be. I asked him how compliant he wanted me to be- as in a tie the bottom can either be completely compliant or they can be combative and I have seen Heathrow do both, though we haven't pursued too much towards the combative scale. He said he desired about a medium level and off we went.

He started with his standard chest harness with arms folded behind back which is a foundation tie for any number of ties after. I noted that he was making it particularly tight. Tighter than he had probably ever made it before. Not that I minded really, because I like challenging situations. He was also answering questions from some observers, and some people had just asked if they could watch, which was all fine as it's sort of the point of this particular event- rope learning and teaching and trying. Like I said, Heathrow is probably one of the best there, so he draws attention (even if he doesn't notice it). Once that was complete he asked me which was my stronger arm and proceeded to attach a lead to the opposite side. Then we got onto the main floor which was made of wood and I realized too late that my feet in socks had zero traction on the floor. So we had a bit of a play with him pulling me along and around while I tried to resist, but I kept sliding- all the tension being on and through the harness.

After some of that he went back to his kit bag and grabbed his suspension gear which is a strap that goes around the suspension rig with a series of carabiner clips attached to a larger clip on the strap. I knew I had asked for a suspension but I was suddenly very nervous. Not only because I was still concerned that I couldn't actually do it (or the rope wouldn't hold me or it would be too painful, or what have you) but also it was in front of a huge number of people who were all watching. He maintained close contact to me, and was observing me carefully. "Are you nervous?" he asked. And I said that I was. "You said you wanted to do it." he said and I agreed that I did. And that was all that was said in regards to it. But I knew that he was looking out for me and even though I was still nervous, I trusted him completely.

Under the rig, he connected the side tie up to one of the carabiners and started additional bands on my thigh and leg on my left leg. When that was complete he tensioned the harness and pulled my leg up through a second carabiner. See, that's the way the rope works. Once you are attached, it's all like a pulley. The rope pulls and the body follows. So now I was balanced on one leg, with one leg up and he let me get a bit comfortable with that and was constantly interacting with me the whole time, then he started tying my other leg and I could see these thin ropes connecting my body to these metal clips and I suddenly had this fear that it just wasn't going to work. I think I said something about how I didn't see how these little ropes were going to hold me which I think was slightly cheeky. And he checked in with me and made sure that I understood that I needed to communicate clearly with him if anything at all felt funny or bad. I said I would, and I completely understood and just like that he pulled the last bit of rope through the carabiner and my foot flew off the ground and my body twisted and fell into position. Because I was connected from my arm (like the picture above actually, which was the first one I sent him), as my foot came up, my body rolled and I think I squeaked out an "Oh shit!!" as it all fell into place. Once the body is up, the individual connection points are tensioned and positioned to place the body in the final tie.

It's an experience to be suspended. It's not like normal bondage where you still have control or leverage. You have nothing in the air. I could arch and extend my body within the confines of the stretch of the rope, but that was all. And then there's the swinging and spinning. Not that it happens quickly (well, it can if you're pulled or pushed) but it's the loss of solidity of the ground. It was really amazing. And what made it particularly special for me is that it was with Heathrow, and we have this connection and thing between us. It wasn't just anyone- it wasn't just 'doing it' and for me that raised the mental level of the experience. I don't think it would have been the same with anyone else. I'm so glad that we did it- that he shared that with me, that I asked for it. It was amazing.

And it didn't end there. After probably five minutes or so suspended I started to feel the ever so slight tingle in my arm which meant it was slowly restricting the blood flow. Given what happened with the photographer, I was not going to make the mistake again of not saying anything, and I'd promised I would. So I told Heathrow that I figured I had a minute left before we'd start to have to undo it and that's basically what happened. He started to bring me down, first with one leg to regain balance and take pressure off, and then each of the tie points was released. The rope on the rest of my body was undone until it was just the harness and he dragged me back out onto the main floor (still slipping in my socks) and we tussled and flew about as he undid the harness piece by piece. I remember laughing and that he was trying to tickle me and spinning about and ducking down to the floor and him pinning me. At the end, only my hands were tied behind my back and he connected that to a loop around my neck which made me arch back and we slowly calmed things down and breathed together and centered and then somehow with a twist and a flick the rope just fell off.

It was amazing.

And a number of people came up to me to tell me that it looked amazing- though I take zero credit for that. It's Heathrow. He's that good. Though I think... the fact that we do connect, and have a level of intimacy to our engagement adds to the scene. I watched him later, tie another girl, and I noticed it wasn't the same as how he is with me. And I've seen him tie R which is completely different to how it is with me. And that's fine. I don't mind that he ties other people. It's a joy to watch as much as it is to participate. And it doesn't make me feel weird or insecure- I mean, that's what he did before we met, so that's just part of who he is.

I got asked to be tied by another very good rope top soon after and ended up with a fetching blue karada (my arms were free) with Celtic knots which matched my clothes which was cool. And later that got added to and I was tied down to a chair for a bit while watching a different suspension taking place.

Later than that, I was used as a demo bunny while Heathrow was teaching two different people the ways of his initial harness and that was fun as well. M, who was tying me, also tried a couple of other quick ties. And then it was time to go back! It was all rather quick actually. R drove us back and A, who had driven down with us, drove back with his partner A2, to R's and we hung out there for a bit once we all got back snacking on chocolate and tea.

Exhausted again, Heathrow and I made to go back to the van and A and A2 left around the same time. It was our last night and Heathrow had work in the morning. There had been some discussion of the best way to get me to the train in the morning after peak time- R had offered to drive me, but I didn't want to put him out in any way. Heathrow said he'd drop me on his way to work. We had our last night together and this time I made sure that he got to come because I wanted to make sure he got to sleep. Which he did, though I don't think I slept very well.

The morning came too soon with a loud alarm and we cuddled and snuggled and messed around a little bit before we got ourselves sorted and on the road. He dropped me at the station, I got the train no problem and was home in not too long where I checked my email and then proceeded to completely crash for five hours before heading out to meet some friends for dinner.

It was a really good weekend.

In some ways it's strange to me to spend that much time with someone- in relatively close proximity and not get bored or annoyed or bothered. It was extremely comfortable mixed with lots of fun. And not just the sex and fooling around or even the rope. But the Thai meal, the cooking the roast and the Yorkshire puddings- all of it was just extremely pleasant and comfortable and nice and also fun and exciting and thrilling at the same time.

But again I don't know when we're meeting up again. And I know we aren't dating. So it's a little bit confusing. It's not a problem yet- this lack of knowing, though it's hard for me because it is not at all my normal way of doing things. I guess it just speaks to how comfortable I feel about Heathrow and with Heathrow, that this lack of decision and planning doesn't really bother me. I guarantee that with any of my past interests, this very thing would have put me into a complete tizzy. So we'll see what happens I guess. I know what happens for me is that when someone interests me in this way, I am not interested in other people. It doesn't matter if we're dating or not because it's all about how I feel. On the plus side, when I thought about Mr.Aloof yesterday, I was pleased to note that there wasn't anything I felt I missed from him. My attention and interests are refocused. This is no small thing, and it is a good thing. I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but I'm pretty happy with the now.

A Weekend in Parts - Saturday

Saturday morning we were both completely wiped out. I don't quite remember what our conversation had been upon trying to go to sleep. It may have been something along the lines of, "If you don't come, are you going to be able to sleep?" to which we both said "Yes." which was clearly not the case. I wouldn't be surprised to learn I only got an hour or two of sleep that night. Oh well.

Eventually we got up and went into R's to use the bathroom and get some tea and toast. I believe R was up and in the kitchen as well- he'd gotten up much much earlier to go rowing (masochist!) and was already back. Our plan for the day was low-key. Heathrow suggested we go to Newmarket to wander around and grab a meal which seemed fine to me, so that was our plan. Around eleven or so we were going to head off and were going back and forth between the van and the house when I realized that I had left my jacket at the club.

I was completely mortified to have made this mistake. Obviously it was a mistake, but it seemed like a disaster. Heathrow and R worked out who to call to see if anyone had taken it with them, but then decided the best thing would be to go back to the club to see if it was still there before calling people as the owners of the club would be cleaning and setting up for the evenings party.

I just remember feeling so completely like an idiot. I hate feeling that way. So as we drove back to the club I think I was sitting in the passenger chair with my arms crossed and Heathrow noticed and told me not to cross my arms and that it was okay. It was... cool that he noticed. I wasn't trying to make a big deal out of it, but I was sitting on a bucket of anxiety and upset and I guess it came out that way and he noticed and said something to let me know it was okay even if I was feeling that it wasn't.

We got to the club and thankfully they had my jacket and we chatted with the owners for a bit and then we were off to Newmarket which was a very strange place. It almost reminded me of places in the States as much as it reminded me of someplace in England. The high street wasn't so large and we walked around and went in and out of various shops. Oddly enough, we couldn't find a tack shop in a horse town. I'm sure they exist, but I guess not in the town center. Shame really, as it would have been highly entertaining for all the wrong reasons. Eventually we settled to eat at this amazing Thai restaurant that was so good, I would recommend it highly which says a lot.

After we ate we were both really feeling exhausted and decided to hit a grocery store where we could pick up some dinner for later and also get some ingredients to make a Sunday roast the next day and so we wouldn't have to go out again. We ended up at some gigantic Tescos which Heathrow assures me isn't that big for the local area but I think must be twice as big as my local Tesco (which is actually a big one!). We got some pizza for dinner and then some beef, potatoes, broccoli, carrots, cauliflower, and Yorkshire pudding ingredients for the roast.

When we got back to R's, he was on his way out for the evening and we had the place to ourselves. R is a super sweetie and is good friends with Heathrow so said we had use of the house to do whatever we liked, wink wink and all that. We made pizza, we chilled out and cuddled and talked. I think we also messed around a bit. I'm trying to remember everything in order which is hard. There are two things of note that happened in this time.

First, was that Heathrow wanted to go over the images I sent him. Although I sent the email on Friday, he hadn't actually read it or looked at the photos. He told me this on Friday and said that he wanted me to tell him about why I picked the photos in person and I bargained saying that I had put that in the email so I would read him the email in person. But we didn't do that Friday, we did that around this point in the weekend. The second picture- the thing that I would like in the future, is the one that heads up this post. The first image, the one I thought was achievable, and which will head the final post, was of a suspension. I chose this because it's something I've never done but am very very curious about. I know that they are challenging, and that not everyone can do them. And I know not being the slimmest girl in the world was not going to work with me in this regard. Still, if I was ever going to try it with someone, he would be the person I trusted the most to do it with. And I knew we were going to the club and also this rope workshop thing on Sunday, so I knew there there would be two opportunities where there would be a suspension point available. Because we hadn't covered the email until now, the opportunity at the club came and went. But that was okay.

The image of something I want in the future is of a mummification. I'm intrigued by this as an extension of my interest in bondage in general. But it's a more intense and elaborate scenario. Because of this, I would only want to do it with someone I had an established relationship with. Because it's intense and can then encompass a lot more 'activity' once the wrapping has been done. We talked a lot about both of these photos, and the one that was my choice. He said he really liked my choices. I was pleased but of course also embarrassed.

The other thing of note that happened was that also Friday morning, Heathrow texted and asked me to bring a selection from my toy drawers. The last time I'd seen him we'd had an email criss cross where he'd asked me to bring my hood, but I didn't get it until I got back. So I was definitely bringing that, and then brought a dildo, a vibrator, nipple clamps, a gag, a different blindfold, some condoms, and some lube. So when we were messing around at some point he told me to go out and get my toy bag. Thankfully R was already gone at this point. Note to self- do not pack toys in clear plastic bag. Seriously.

It was still early evening but we didn't really want to sleep because if we slept, we'd ruin our nights sleep. So we just relaxed for a bit and then Heathrow told me that I should get all my bath stuff together and that I was to go upstairs and clean myself and that he'd be up shortly to inspect me and that I would then clean him. What was funny about this proposal is that it's actually a long standing casual fantasy of mine- to bathe my partner. There's something about the tactile quality of bathing as well as the comfort of warm water and cleanliness that I find very appealing. It's not even necessarily sexual but extremely intimate.

And this is exactly what happened. Of course I just had to end up in that position of being down on my knees in front of him as I had cleaned down his body and his cock is just there in front of my face. At some point, possibly during the serious chat on Friday, we also talked about oral sex and my issues around it. As we came to an agreement on Friday that sex was on the table, I also agreed that oral sex was completely on the table. But up until this point in the weekend, though many things had happened, neither of those things had actually happened. But it did now. Not for long, not in a forced or even uncomfortable way, though I was certainly... encouraged. Then we dried off and went downstairs for more fun and games.

I can't remember everything that happened or in what order or even what was before or after the bath necessarily. Warm and enjoyable snapshot memories include:
* Being nude and hooded and led around by my hand, by my nipples, and by fingers hooked into my cunt.
* Being tied into a ball and teased and tickled with my vibrator.
* Being manipulated with one hand in my cunt, and another playing with my clit to a massive orgasm, possibly also while hooded.
* More oral sex of me on him, under appreciative direction.
* Sex! Sex! Sex! In a variety of positions starting with some restraint and finishing with none.
* Being placed into a ball on the floor and used as a footrest.
* And all the while and in between being held and hugged and touched and stroked and kissed... mmmmmm...

I have no idea how long we entertained ourselves in this way, though I don't think it was super late when we wrapped up seeing as how we were sort of exhausted already. We cleaned everything up and went back to the van- the intention as I recall was for him to come (because he hadn't) and then we would go to sleep. What was funny though, was while that was completely the intention, somehow without either of us knowing how or when, we both fell asleep curled up together and had a very good night's sleep. Guess we needed it!

A Weekend in Parts - Friday

I need to record for myself all of the things that happened over the past weekend. It was a lot. I've probably already forgotten many things that I'd prefer to remember. Such is the way of things. In order to make it more digestible, I'm splitting it into days.

I got a text first thing Friday morning with instructions for a task. The task was to email 3 bdsm based images from my erotic collection- one which represented something that would be desired and achievable over the weekend, one that is something desired but maybe in the future, and the third was an image of my choice with an explanation of my choice. I pondered this task all morning as I ran about doing various things. I managed to send it just before heading out to a meeting about some new work. The task was tricky for me. Exposing. I also realize that my taste in erotica is more emotive than actual. Meaning many of the images I collect and admire are not of specific 'activities' necessarily, but rather represent a feeling, a sensation, an emotion- and to me that's the attraction. So it was hard to find photos of actual things to do. But I managed it. The third photo, the one that was my choice (by Siege), is the one I'm titling this post with.

So after rushing about doing things all day, I packed my rucksack with all the things I thought I might need over the weekend, and headed off to Cambridge to meet Heathrow. It was an easy train journey and he picked me up at the station. We went straight to R's house where we had been two weekends before. We were meeting there to go to a club and there was another woman already at R's, and then R2 showed up as well. We ate some food and chatted and then it was time to get changed and go. I brought my gold corset, knee length sheer black flowy skirt, fishnets, black boots, and silk knickers. I also pulled out a silver tank top in case I got up to anything and the corset got removed I would have something else to wear. I'm not really an exhibitionist. I got dressed but held off on lacing the corset until we got to the club which I'd never considered before. Much more clever to travel with it on loose so as to be able to get in and out of cars and such. Learn something new and all that.

So we got to the club and were some of the first people there because R and Heathrow bring along some kit that is stored at R's and set it up for the club. So they did that and C and I got a tour from R2 who also did me the favor of tightening the corset. We then got drinks and socialized as people arrived. It was a very different environment to the last bdsm club I went to- more intimate and smaller. I think also because it caters to the Cambridge scene which is smaller and more intimate, it just follows on from there that it's part of that culture compared to say, the London scene. The space hosts this club once a month and is a swingers club otherwise. This means it's set up for varying activities. Downstairs was the bar and the main area with equipment, floorspace, and seating around the edges. Upstairs were some 'bedrooms'- and a den sort of room and also a clean room for blood play.

After being there for about an hour Heathrow asked me if I wanted to go chill in the van for a bit as he was pretty knackered from the end of the week and I was happy with that because as much as I thought the club was interesting, I of course came up to see Heathrow, so time alone sounded good to me. So we wandered out to the van and ended up in bed- although I stayed dressed which was funny only because you aren't very bendy in a corset and getting around a camper van in a corset is awkward to say the least. But it was nice. We cuddled and kissed and then the conversation somehow got serious and not by my bringing it up. Basically Heathrow said that he'd read through all of my IC posts and carefully read my profile again and was concerned about what I was wanting and looking for. Now, since I know what it says in my profile and posts, I countered that by asking him what he was looking for. And we proceeded to have a very convoluted and not resolved conversation about whatever the hell we're doing. But I'll recap it as this. I think, that he's not ready to be in a relationship right now. He doesn't want to give up his activities, and doesn't think he's at a place in his life where this fits. My counter point was that I know him and his eccentricities and am not looking to pursue a relationship with him to change him, but accept who he is and still want to pursue a relationship. He acknowledged that we share something that is special and unique and beyond 'playing' or 'messing about' but that he doesn't want to ruin our friendship.

So... we aren't dating. We're sharing things at an intensity that both of us think is not casual (and we aren't sharing with anyone else). And that's where it sits for now. I think there are three possible outcomes from here. One is that it just takes time to develop- specifically for him to adjust to what a relationship may or may not mean. Or, I may become closer and he will stay how he is which means at some point it won't be enough for me and I'll have to end it because I'll be unhappy (but I'm not at the moment). Or, we do whatever for a while and both grow apart. At any rate, I'm willing to give it some time and space to see what happens. I'm glad that he brought it up on his own and is at least thinking about it- And I think we have some sort of understanding, though with all things like this, it's tricky.

So we ended up going back in after an hour or two and things were much more in full swing- various scenes going on. I found myself being tied by Heathrow with my arms secure behind my back and around my corseted waist. It wasn't particularly tight so it could be left for a while. We had fun with that and then settled back onto one of the sofas chatting with people, then Heathrow got asked by someone to do a suspension on someone else so he and R went off a bit to do that and I stayed tied and chatting with people while watching the suspension and some other flogging and play going on which was all interesting.

I'm really not sure what time it was as things started to vaguely wind down. Probably around 2 in the morning. Half the people had gone or thereabouts and half were still lingering. Heathrow had untied me and I can't quite remember what was going on but we ended up alone in our corner of the main room and everyone else was by the bar and somehow we got onto the subject of my corset and I said something along the lines of I was looking forward to taking it off and he said why hadn't I and I said well we weren't that much longer so he told me to get up and turn around so I faced the wall away from the main room and he started undoing the corset. It's not that nudity isn't commonplace in fetish clubs, so I wasn't stressed about that- I guess it's just I don't love being looked at, so I am not an exhibitionist at heart. Saying that, I get a thrill out of 'being made' to be in that position in a place where I know it is safe and acceptable.

He had me put my hands over my head and wait while he dug out my tank top and then slipped it on and there was more hugging and touching and playing about and he took me by the hand and led me upstairs. Now, he and I share a similar thought process with the upstairs I think which is basically, nice in concept bad in practice. Neither he nor I really wanted to be anywhere there may be unidentified substances so we stood in the hall area and he messed about with him exposing me by removing bits of my clothes. It was that same thrilling eroticism knowing that people were downstairs and I could be seen, but it was still removed enough for me to enjoy the possibility without being confronted with the reality.

After a bit we ended up in the den room, me kneeling on the matted floor and him sitting on one of the sofas and we were playing and messing about when M, the woman who runs the club came up to collect some equipment. At this point I believe Heathrow had me by the nipples and was teasing me and nothing stopped because M was there, it was just amusing. I think she was probably more amused than anything else to be honest.

And so eventually we made our way back downstairs, everything was loaded back up into vehicles and we went back to R's. I can't remember so much from the rest of the evening except that I'm sure we stayed up even longer messing around and cuddling and making out. He started this evil little game where he wanted me to say dirty words and I am not a dirty word sort of girl so he would demand that I say it, and I would defer and he'd tickle me or torture me until I gave in. I know neither of us felt we got much sleep by the morning...

Taking Advice

So after the email exchange that set my mood plummeting, I discussed it with a few people. I had one friend and one newly met acquaintance both tell me that I was being ridiculous and that an invitation is an invitation and I was reading too much into it. Of course, I can't say that I was swayed by these opinions because it seemed perfectly obvious to me that I was being slighted.

I realize that I need to share the dialogue here because I haven't been explicit, but to make sense of the story (or offer an opinion, if you feel like it) I need to put down exactly what the exchange was, so it went like this (the rest of the emails that went with the excerpted comments, removed):

"... I'm glad you're pleased with your marks. I do fear they'll fade though, although that can always be rectified."

"It's true... marks fade away, though funny enough they stay yellow for an impressively long time. Still, a refresher may be just the thing... ;) What are you doing next weekend? My flatmate extended her trip by a week, so I've got the flat to myself until the 20th."

"...next weekend it's Oblivion and the Peer Rope Workshop. You're welcome to come, but I'm not sure it's that worth it to be honest."

"Hm... well... if you're busy next weekend, you're busy. That's cool. I don't really want to impose. I mean, I'd like to see you of course because when I have so much fun with someone, I tend to want more! ;) So... just let me know when you're next free and/or may want to meet up."

And then although he emailed me, there was not a single mention of meeting up at all. And that's when I wrote my last post, and yes, my feelings were hurt. And stayed hurt as we continued to email and no suggestion of meeting up was made at all.

But yesterday when I related the same story to my therapist, she also *ahem* suggested, that I was taking it the wrong way. I think I was surprised actually because it was so very clear to me- the way I interpreted the situation was correct. But she said that I should just write Heathrow and say actually yes, I'd be keen on hanging out over the weekend and that was that. I thought this was ridiculous. But the fact that my shrink said it rather gave me pause.

Because I completely read what he wrote as a non-invitation. Still, I was so annoyed about it, that after having three people say I was wrong I just figured oh fuck it so since we were emailing anyway, last night I tacked on to my email that I'd been thinking about the weekend and actually I'd quite like to go to a club if he didn't mind me crashing and we could hang out Saturday and I'd head back to London.

And lo and behold he writes enthused about my attendance and extended my suggestion to include Sunday and a trip to Warwick. It was all completely fine or even better than fine and I was completely and totally wrong.

Although I still don't understand why he couldn't sound a bit more enthusiastic in the original invitation because it really didn't seem like an invitation. And then after what I wrote- to write nothing at all, he could have easily come back and said it wasn't an imposition at all and I should come. So in my mind, all signs pointed to my version of events and yet that was not the case. I was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Not that I'm unhappy about it in this particular case, but still. It's hard to shake the feeling that I was right. Or rather, it's hard to understand how I shouldn't have felt how I did. Something to work on.

But that's all good. Then in other news I'm now applying for a job in Oxford (which seems far more reasonable than Dublin and yes, would be a bitch of a commute but I could do it) and got another small 3d modeling job on referral for the one I just completed, so that was cool. And while I'm hardly out of the woods yet, I feel far more positive than I did yesterday.

And then I just think it's ridiculous that my mood is so swayed by my relationships and interactions, but so be it. I'm a soppy moody girl who gets affected by girl things. Whatever.

Not Inspired

I know what I'm going to talk about in therapy today. I'm going to talk about how I think I'm a very boring person. It's true. The follow up to thinking that I'm a very boring person is to correlate this to thinking I have nothing of interest to offer anyone else, particularly in the area of relationships.

I've been thinking about this recently because I have been trying to think about how I come across to other people. Why would anyone want to get to know me? In fact, how is it even possible for someone to get to know me when there seems to be nothing interesting about me whatsoever?

I can tick off the things I am passionate about. I am passionate about food. I can talk about food and food related things for a very long time. Of course, someone has to be interested in food related things for me to want to talk to them about this subject, otherwise I think I'm boring them and I tend to reign it in.

I enjoy travel. I like to hypothesize about where to travel next, fun adventures I've had while traveling and hear about other people's traveling adventures as well. Again though, this sort of requires that I'm talking to someone who is interested in travel, because I really wouldn't ramble on about any subject that I thought was boring my listener (here doesn't count of course).

I suppose I'm pretty passionate about sex and porn but that's tricky to discuss with other people because it seems too personal and intimate and leading even if I didn't mean for it be. In any case, I'm often interested in esoteric aspects of sexuality versus simply the hot factor. I find this isn't always shared with fellow admirers, which isn't going to generate loads of discussion.

I'm reasonably passionate about architecture and urban design. I guess I should be- since it's what I do. But unless someone else is knowledgeable or interested, this is definitely a dead end conversation topic. There's this sort of criticism about 'architecture for architects' sometimes. And while I don't think that's admirable in a building, when it comes to discussion, it's easier when someone has a similar knowledge level to mine. Otherwise it's more education than discussion and that's not really what I'm intending.

Really, the thing that I am the most interested in and the most passionate about is other people. This is something that I do end up discussing with various friends pretty much all the time, but it tends to make me feel like a bit of a gossip and anyway, is that a passion? I mean to me, in a way, it is- because I am utterly intrigued and fascinated about how and why people make decisions and choices. But due to the nature of the interest, it's impossible for it to be independent. And it seems a poor conversation topic. Certainly not in a getting to know someone way.

I realize that I'm thinking these things because I am in the process of 'explaining' things in my life. Like, if only I was more interesting and offered more as a person and individual than things would come my way. Or people would respond to it. And I guess it's hard because I think other people and their interests and activities are so very interesting- if I turn that gaze on myself, I just see.... nothing. I've got nothing. Pah.

Frustrating

I know that things are not going to work itself out how I would prefer them to. And also, I'm particularly sensitive to rejection or what I perceive as rejection. Therefor, if I invite you to come around to my house to be naughty with me, and at the time of the invite it will mean we haven't seen each other for two weeks, and you tell me you have plans and offer no alternative for when you may want to meet up or even suggest that you do want to meet up at all, then rest assured I will start to think the very worst and my feelings will be hurt.

I'm having a particularly 'unamused' couple of days between work crisis and relationship issues. I'm feeling negative and down and grumpy. Okay, there's lots of potential but none of it seems to be working out. Sure, some of it offers short term excitement and fun, but no long term rewards. I want something to be sorted out. Something. Anything. For me. In a nice way. Fuck this. What's the point of trying? That's the main message I get from my endeavors.

Grump.

Stuff in the Air

It's been a while since I've felt this way. There seem to be a number of things up in the air just now. Funny how it can sneak up on you all of the sudden just like that.

The first thing, which is somewhat independent of anything else is that I am in the process of applying for a job in Dublin. I don't really want a job in Dublin. I don't want to leave my house. I don't want to put off my ability to get citizenship (I basically have to stay in residence for the final year of my citizenship application, and I honestly don't know how a majority absence for any of the required five years will affect it frankly). I don't want to leave my friends and comfort. I don't want to start over.

However. It's a potentially very good job. It's only an hour's flight from City Airport so I could come back easily enough. And there aren't any other jobs at all being advertised really. So I'm applying and will hold off on thinking any more seriously about it than that until I have to.

My nipples are ridiculously sensitive today after yesterdays abuse. Ridiculous I tell you!! Like everything that brushes past them sends a total shockwave through my system. Or the cold weather and my natural response, that's not so great either, and I should point out, it's very cold. Of course, twisted girl that I am, I rather like the situation, so I'm not really complaining, I'm sort of gloating. Go figure.

But it raises an interesting problem, and a situation that I am going to need to start thinking about or rather, sorting out, probably sooner over later. The other couple have asked to see me on Tuesday. Now, I am free on Tuesday and could go see them except the bruises on my breasts won't be gone (though I expect my nipples to be back to normal at least). Still, I think it's rather bad form to show up with bruises (photoshoots not withstanding, though if I'd been aware of the potential I would never have shown up with bruises to a photoshoot, even if they were appreciated...) when you are visiting one person that came from another. Or at least I think it's rather bad form. So I really don't think I can see the other couple on Tuesday with my body in its current state.

But then, even if the bruises are gone, there is the potential that the other couple would leave me with new bruises when I am going to try to arrange to see Heathrow next weekend which means I certainly can't have bruises from someone else if I'm going to meet up with Heathrow, in part because we haven't really gotten to the point of discussing my extra curricular activities. I don't really see the need until our conversation turns to what the hell we're doing, but I don't get the impression it would make things any better, so I'd prefer not to go down that route and keep these particular cards closer to my chest (which makes me want to make a joke about nipples, but I'll refrain).

So while I have these two potentials on the table, my thoughts also stray to the photographer who literally lives about three blocks from me. When he left, we vaguely suggested that such a thing (the fun, not necessarily the photos) could be repeated. And how can I not have that on my mind with every brush of fabric or gust of cold air?

Although in truth.... it's Heathrow I've set my sights on. The other couple and the photographer are very very fun, but neither is a long term potential in the sense of being able to give me most of what I need or desire, though both offer certain things that I really do desire, which somewhat complicates matters. But it has only been with Heathrow so far, in our intimate moments that I have actually felt something like the potential to really let myself go and fall for him. A type of synchronicity I haven't felt... in a long time.

Which is why I'm guarding myself so very closely. Because I don't know what is going on exactly. I do know that I could really like him a lot though. And I'm keeping myself from doing so, but the potential is there. Which means every decision I am currently making prioritizes that over everything else, even though it's pretty far away from being anything even close to a certainty (and has a much higher chance of being a dud).

And all of this muddled confusion sort of makes me want to seek out those forms of happy oblivion that would otherwise occupy my time, but because of all the above mentioned reasons are impossible. Quite the conundrum.

Did I mention I'm applying for a job in freaking Dublin?

Naughty Pictures

Although I am exhausted and want to go to bed, like, right now, I am going to sit here and write about the events of today before I start to forget them. I really didn't know what to expect. In fact, I didn't expect anything in particular except that I would get tied up and have my photo taken (repeatedly). I know that the photographer (who I shall keep nameless for the time being for various reasons) is 'on the scene' or at least was 'on the scene' and so is more than just a photographer who likes to tie people up with rope. I went into it expecting nothing but what was agreed and predetermined. However, that isn't exactly how things turned out...

A few days before the shoot, I received an email questionnaire asking me about the shoot which I answered. I think it's useful in the remarking of what happened, even though it's not 'the good stuff' as it were, it's a good starting point for my commentary and reflections. It went as follows:

1.What attracted you to participate in this project?
I have an interest in erotic photography, and erotic art, as you sort of know from my involvement in reviewing it for the art of love website. But even before that, I've been a nerve.com subscriber for ages and I've always been attracted to the photo bloggers. One in particular, Siege (aka Clatyon Cubitt) once put out a call for models and I answered it because he did these really detailed close ups of genitalia and I thought that seemed cool (and anonymous enough) and the idea enticed me. Well, I contacted him and we agreed it, but since he's in NY and I'm in London the timing was limited and it just didn't work out in the small window we had. So I sort of let that go, but the idea, or interest didn't go. Because I've also been on IC for a while, I knew who you were, followed the posts of the last project, etc. It's a bit more.. exposed than what I had envisioned with Siege, but as long as I can retain my anonymity, the idea still just really intrigues me.

I think really because I probably (like a gazillion other women) don't have the best view of my own body or sensuality or visual sexuality. However, I'm smart enough to understand that it's more in my head than something that everyone else sees (again, not at all unique to me) so I guess I'm sort of intrigued to see myself through someone else's eyes. How they see me or can see me. Or even if they can show me myself in a way that I haven't seen myself before.

I also think on some level... I'm not getting any younger and I've wasted a lot of time in my life not liking my body or the way that I look. But how will I feel in ten more years or twenty or thirty? I'd rather try to get some sort of snapshot of myself now, sort of like as a benchmark. To be able to really see myself in this moment now, and even in the future. So as somehow not to lose it.

Oh, and of course, I really like rope. There is a purely curiosity based interest in experiencing how other people tie. I'm fascinated not only by how I feel by being tied, but how the experience is for the other person. I think there's an interesting spectrum of how people approach it, and in general, I find people sort of fascinating.

2.What are you hoping to experience and get from your photoshoot?
Oh... wait, I think I sort of answered that above. To a degree. I really am interested in somehow being able to have this marker of a moment in time, a moment in my life, a moment in my freedom and explorations and even on some levels, for everything I said about discomfort, a comfort with myself that has developed despite everything else. And of course, I think it will not only be really interesting, because the subject matter but also the act of capturing it interests me, but I also think it should be fun.

3.Is there anything you are nervous about? and any aspect you are particularly excited about?
I don't think I'm really nervous about anything except I suppose if it all went horribly and there were no good photos and I was ugly and unphotogenic and my worst thoughts in life would be realized except I think the likelihood of that happening is slim so it's more a subtle undertone to my own thought process and less a serious worry. I'm excited because it's new and different and a bit out there for me in some ways. I like to experience new things, and this would be a new thing. I can't say I can pick out one specific aspect that outweighs the others- it's sort of lumping together.

4.Is there any aspect of bondage you are particularly interested in trying?
I always find this a tricky question because I always want to say something I haven't tried or seen before but that would negate my knowing what it was or how to describe it. I've experienced various forms and types of bondage for various lengths of time and I really generally have liked them all unless something was going numb or falling asleep (other discomforts have provided pleasant side notes to particularly challenging scenarios). I don't think I've ever actually been tied in a full body tie- usually torso and legs have been separate... I haven't done much by way of decorative bondage 'with props' which could be interesting. I think that's interesting because it lends itself to an artistic medium but is often less useful in an interactive situation. I like bondage as a way of presenting a person for use but I also like bondage as a way of displaying a person as an object. I'm just as drawn to simple and effective bondage as I am to elaborate and decorative bondage. I'm a glutton. I like it all.

5.Is there any aspect of bondage that you particularly fear or dislike?
Not that I've experienced to date. I can be drawn to more challenging forms of bondage and I don't really freak out or get claustrophobic. I wouldn't let anyone restrict me severely unless I trusted them to do so responsibly, and once I trusted them, it eliminates most of the reasons for fear. I find bondage extremely... mentally relaxing actually. Once you give up, you just... give in and give up and process whatever you're going through. But choice and options no longer exist, so fear doesn't really exist. I think in all honesty, I really only dislike things I think I fail at.

6.Is there a part of yourself or your personality that you want to show, exaggerate or even hide?
I don't tend to associate my personality with my physicality. I never think of who I am, and my body, in the same sort of thoughts. Because of this, I'm not convinced that my personality shows without words or expression. Although saying that (and thinking through it) I recognize that expression is entirely capturable. I don't know. I can be sort of smirky. I get by in life trying to find humor in a lot of things. I can have a very twisted or off color sense of humor. But even if these things were shown or exaggerated, would it represent me? These tend to be surface things anyway. The more closer someone moves towards the core of who I am, the more shy or quiet I tend to become. This is not more or less who I am, it's just a different side. Maybe part of me thinks that no matter what is shown or hidden, it can only be a piece of the overall puzzle anyway. It's funny, in the thinking through of this, it occurs to me that what would be interesting would be to see myself as a sexual and/or sensual person. But mostly because while I believe that's part of my personality, in some ways it would be the last thing that would occur to me, and yet... will be the first thing other people would consider given the nature of the shoot. And interesting only because as I said before, I don't really tend to think of myself that way.

...

So that was what was sent a couple of days in advance.

I slept poorly last night, probably in a bit of anticipation and nerves. I hadn't really noticed any nerves leading up to it, but I know my sleeping was fitful. When I eventually got up, I showered and shaved and moisturized and finger twisted my hair and generally made sure that I would be as good as I could be, under the circumstances, naked. I threw on my robe over my nakedness because I also know that my skin tends to take imprints of anything against it, and I figured that would be less desirable. And I waited.

He came a bit early (texted first to make sure it was okay) and was a bit tired. I made some tea. We sat and chatted for a bit. He must be more used to it- this transition of just meeting someone to handling their nakedness. I'm fairly practical about such situations meaning I have a tendency to distance myself emotionally from it which allows me to just get on with what I intend without the burden of freaking out. He set up his light and stand and was intrigued by my ikea dining chairs and decided that it would be a good place to start, so he put one in the center of the lounge, and asked me to sit on it reversed, nude. And so it began.

The first thing I felt I had to mention was that I had some very yellow marks on my breasts from last weekend spent with Heathrow that hadn't faded. He was very amused by this, and made me blush by saying they looked good on me though. I was very much 'in my head' to start with. After all, here is pretty much a complete stranger tying me up. To my dining chair. Which, I should add, I've always thought would be a very good use for these chairs but never had an opportunity to try it. He started with my ankles and legs to the legs of the chair, then wrists to thigh and up the arms into a body harness and at various points reattaching to the holes in the chair. There was quite a bit of work going on in the back, which I couldn't see, and then he had me lean and stretch forward so my (bound) breasts were basically over the edge of the chair and then secured me into that position.

It wasn't overly uncomfortable though it was a more strenuous bondage tie. It was also challenging because my feet don't tend to sit flat on the floor when I sit in chairs, so this added strain to my legs and thighs, not to be able to alleviate some of the pressure. But it was okay really and I was feeling it nicely. Then he asked if I was averse to any decorations, and if my breasts were particularly sensitive.

Let's call this turning point 1. I could have backed out, or kept it straight (well, to the pre agreed level), but why? I like a challenge. I like attention. And I also like to please. So if someone has me all trussed up to a chair and seems like they really want to put some nipple clamps on me, I say why not? And so he did. Clover clamps. And they hurt, of course, but added to the excitement and thrill of what I was doing. I mean, I have my own pair, so it's not like they were new to me- what was new to me however, was how when placed on bound or to put it another way 'tensioned' breasts, they have a tendency to start slipping off and THAT hurts let me tell you. And the lovely sadistic photographer took great joy in reapplying them to my increasingly sensitive nipples. But really, I have to note that this was the first step over the line of purely photographer and model and all I knew was I didn't mind one bit.

After he shot what he wanted from this particular tie and had had enough fun torturing my breasts, he untied me and began a second tie on the chair. This was more simple in the sense that it was almost more about the chair than me, though my arms ended up restrained on top of the chair to the woven in rope work, no other part of me was restrained. That was pretty cool and I've seen one of the photos from that now and it is definitely cool. Hooray!

Now, at some point here, I think we were talking as all this was going on and he said something... and I said something a bit snarky back (who me?) which got me a raised eyebrow and a malicious metal clip on my nipple. It's been a while, I forgot how one shouldn't tease a dominant within manipulation distance. But perhaps this moment was turning point 2. Because it was outside of the realm of the shot now and building on a dynamic growing between us and our interaction during the shoot. Again, I feel it important to note here (and probably again) that at any point I felt I could have halted any of these upping of the stakes. I not only allowed these things to happen but was an active participant. But in my telling, and of course in my attraction to such situations, I like to feel as though this is not the case. However, it's important I think to state clearly that I felt in total control. I just chose to give some of it up.

The next tie involved me in my robe, tied over with the robe pulled asunder. Then I was lowered to the ground and the tie continued and included my legs hooked backwards and asymmetrically to the body harness that was constructed. By now, my nipples were quite sensitive so anything brushing on them was sending me back pleasant little stimulations and there was rope pulled between my legs (though over the robe) that was nicely adding to the sensations. More photos and manipulations and teasing and it was all being untied. I stayed on the floor though and the chair was placed strategically over me so that a hanger (like literally, a skirt hanger, though a nice one) was tied to the chair and then attached to my nipples. That made me giggle. It wasn't as painful as the clover clamps or little metal clip, well, until he pulled it off of course. But I was amused looking at the underside of my chair, thinking how funny and absurd yet ridiculous fun all of this was.

And I'm pretty sure that was it for the downstairs. We moved everything (though not the chair) upstairs after that to my bedroom. At some point along the way I had suggested that to preserve anonymity, I would be fine if he wanted to use my hood. So here, the hood got busted out. After some more chatting and moving some piles of crap out of the way, he had me lie on the carpet. This was mostly challenging because the carpet felt like a million cat tongues rasping at my nipples which made me laugh which made him ask what was so funny which made me tell him which made him proceed to drag me around on the carpet a bit by the new rope in place which probably made me laugh more. I think this tie was sort of like a modified hog tie and there were photos taken, then it was untied and the next tie was begun.

At some point in my bedroom I commented on how I don't have a curtain on one of my windows and how no one ever looks up to see anything anyway so with the hood on, he maneuvered me to be right in the window while he proceeded to tie. I could hear everything on the street, and there was that slight uneasiness, except I know for a fact no one ever looks up, so it wasn't exactly a real concern, but it was fun to think it might have been. Then I was down on my knees, leaning back against my bed (which is tall by UK standards and normal by American standards- so basically the edge of it, with me kneeling was pretty much at back of lower head level) and he began a sort of rope corset.

Now, there are basically three ways to be on your knees. Knees together, ankles together (sitting on heels), knees apart, ankles together (sitting on heels), and knees together ankles apart (sitting on floor). Turning point 3 had to be that my kneeling position was knees apart ankles together and his position was to be situated between my knees so I could not pull them in. It had definitely become more intimate and close and now, not only was there the occasional tweak or play or clamp on my nipples, but new rustling or nudging happening between the legs. And all the while the rope was looping and cinching in a most delightful fashion.

As much as I would have liked to stay in this position and see what happened, I did push past a boundary of my own I probably should have not, because my legs basically fell asleep after some time. Instead of saying something when I should, I waited and then I really really had to say something which required him to haul me up by the harness (which is it's own special sort of challenge) to standing, except I honestly couldn't feel my feet. I put them under me like I knew they should be, but at first I felt nothing. Then I felt like I had large club boxes instead of feet. And basically... with the blood rushing back, and me trying to stand, I had a drain of blood to my head. I felt extremely dizzy and ill and felt a rising panic. Assessed (in probably what was milliseconds) that it wasn't okay and I needed to be unhooded and probably untied and said so, so that's exactly what happened except of course, I felt I failed. And I hate to feel that I fail another person. I was disappointed to have interrupted what was becoming a fairly hot interaction and also to have the corset undone when it had only really just been put on.

Although I think some shots were taken before this happened, so it wasn't completely a loss. Still, I really just hate that sort of failure. I take it as a personal slight- that I couldn't succeed. Which funny enough, I had said right up there in my pre shoot questionnaire. He was cool with it, and I didn't make a big deal out of it, but my pride stung pretty badly at that point as we both lay on my bed and equilibrium returned.

Which led to the final turning point of the day. Because the shoot was for the most part, complete. I could tell. But there had been the small interruption and the teasing and toying throughout the day. So after making absolutely sure that I was okay and not dizzy and could feel all of my appendages he said to me, "So, if you could have whatever you wanted in the next hour, what would it be?".

What a difficult question that was for me! It isn't how I work. It isn't how I think. Even if I can make myself think of what I might want I negate it almost immediately if I can even let myself think of things at all. I know it's something I'm trying to work on, but this was a more intense situation. It was an offer- obviously. But what if I was wrong? What if I was misreading or misunderstanding? If I hate failing someone the next thing on the list of things I hate is being wrong. And probably just after that is being rejected. So this was fraught with danger for me, and I responded accordingly. Which only made him calmly say that if I hadn't answered by the time he'd sent a text out, he was going to start hurting me....

Some short time later after I managed to squeak out that it's impossible to answer anything coherently when distracted by intense pain, I did manage to formulate an answer of sorts that was both specific and vague and non-comittal all at once. I have skills I tell you, skills. But somehow through my jumble of words and the exchange, we had agreed something. So I took a short break to get us some beverages (and cookies) and came back up, and after a pause, we were off again. But this time... the focus was not the camera.

And it all got rapidly quite naughty. I think he's the first person who has ever had a good look through my toy drawer(s). He made use of a number of implements he found. He tied me and alternately tortured me and soothed me and tortured me some more. I giggled and yelped and squirmed and screeched along.

Although I know I'm frequently graphic, I find I'm reluctant to be 100% openly graphic here. We didn't have sex, though there was penetration through toys. I didn't come, but I was mighty turned on. And he didn't come, as far as I know (I was blindfolded for a good chunk of this time but I don't think so). I think it was all slightly surreal for me because I didn't really anticipate that it was going to happen. I wasn't upset (and would even say I was sort of thrilled) that it happened, but seriously, not what I anticipated at all.

Grinning in the aftermath and resting I said that if all of his shoots were like this, I hardly felt bad for the amount of free time it was taking (he does this personal project work in between his regular work) to which he responded that what happened with us is not something that happens with any degree of regularity, in fact, just a couple of the subjects at most. And he said I was fun. And I was secretly quite thrilled with that and I blushed.

And slowly we composed ourselves and got things sorted and together and it was time for him to leave.

I've now seen two of the photos from the shoot and they're both pretty cool. I'll get copies of the final set and I'm really looking forward to them. Leaving aside the additional bonus of the day going not at all how I thought it would, the original intention still holds true. I did something I sort of always wanted to do. I'm really thrilled that I did it. And the other stuff that happened, well, that was sort of thrilling too.

Right. Now I'm off to bed. There's some sleep and some unfinished business I certainly need to attend to.