blunt instrumental - coil

another slow and languid day in the basement. today's playlist was: the bruch symphonies and tangerine dream's "dream sequence".

no answer from Ms Simone, so i spent most of the day on the group, answering questions and making suggestions.

there's a guy on there, name of subbyslutty, who i'm coming to respect - on a lot of levels. his wisdom and his sense of humour for a start.

why is it that these guys who come across as devoted and excellent slave-material are always single?

no sign of my naked friend today, but i think i heard a scuffling, somewhere inside the walls once or twice this afternoon.

i left about four-thirty. i'd already played all four cds i'd brought with me.

where the heart is – soft cell

i came here straight from work yesterday and Ms Simone was in a "playfully vindictive" sort of a mood. no other way to describe it, really.

we had quite an early night. tutu again decided to sleep curled up on top of my duvet. i'm not sure, but i think she might be starting to warm to me.

Ms Simone's out shopping. She told me i was free to relax til She got back.

we were at the lunch munch this afternoon and She gave me the key and told me to head back to Hers.

this is unprecedented!

tutu gave me a funny look and muttered something under her breath when i turned up alone!

the munch was, as usual, much as you'd expect. all the usual suspects. as is becoming more and more common, the main topic of discussion is the club that's happening here tonight.

Ms Simone's made it clear that we're going. tam mentioned that he'll be accompanying Stella and i believe harold mentioned going with his Mistress, too.

we chatted most of yesterday evening. tossing ideas about Female Supremacy around. touching on Elise Sutton, Ingrid Bellemare and of course, the anonymous Author of "now you are Hers".

Female Supremacy has quite a bad name at the moment.

bdsm is subject to all sorts of fashionable trends and movements. every couple of years, there's a whole crop of new kids on the block and the one about "the sub's the one really in charge" rears its ugly - and repetitive - head.

it's like ic. three or four times a year, some newbie feels that she or he has to point out that they don't like the idea of scat. or ask what everybody's favourite "music to scene to" is.

at least the poo-bunnies don't feel they have to list dozens of pop singles with vaguely kinky titles.

weekender - flowered up

i'm on the bus to Ms Simone's. that said, i'll be getting off a bit early, at morrison's. She texted mid-afternoon, asking me to pick up one or two things.

so i made a list.

tam's been texting all afternoon, too. and elaine, all day. tam's working his way through "now you are Hers" with Stella. so he's bouncing ideas off me, looking for my take on things. it can't be easy being him just now. having to watch such massive changes in himself.

good on him for having the bottle to jump out of his comfort zone, though.

elaine's sort of skittish, Her texts hurried and sometimes difficult to follow. i wish i knew what was going on there.

not a bad week, really. a week in the basement's always good and it's looking like next week will be spent down there, too.

and, best of all, another weekend at the feet of my Owner and Goddess!

i'm still slightly weirded out by that - whatever it was - that i saw on wednesday, but the further i get from it, the less i believe it actually happened. my mind starts knitting together explanations - someone with down's syndrome and a couple of other things wrong with it? nah, that wouldn't explain all that paper being sorted out overnight.

there's no point in worrying about it - i'm free of the place til monday.

subhuman - blue öyster cult

talk about it all going off at once! when i went in this morning, the smell had gone. completely. for a second, i thought i'd imagined the whole thing. the back room was cleaned, the papers stacked neatly in piles right around the walls. the centre of the room was empty. no leftovers.

i put down the coffee i'd brought in with me and stared. that creature must have been at it all night! had it been watching what i'd been doing, then carried on when i went home?

just at that moment, there were footsteps on the stairs.

my skin crawled

i turned.

but it was only one of the cash-room girls, skipping down the stairs and stopping in the main room. She stared at me, then past me at the creature's work.

"you've been busy." she announced brightly. "you'd hardly recognise the place!"

i just nodded. i didn't trust my voice to work right.

i didn't see the creature all day. Ms Simone texted me quite early to ask how things stood. we'd been on the phone last night and i'd told Her what i'd seen. understandably enough, She didn't believe me at first. after all, it isn't plausible, is it? weird, sub-human creatures, living in the basement of a bustling workplace in the city centre!

i'd decided that, if i encountered it again, i 'd take a picture of it. we texted all morning, me filling in the gaps between them by sifting through the papers, marrying them up with the correct folders.

elaine texted a couple of times too, but nothing really involved.

i posted a message to the Female Supremacy group. partly to answer something one of the other males had said, partly to identify myself within the group.

roll on tomorrow and another weekend at Ms Simone's!

stranger in our town - the gun club

ok, this is officially weird. and ridiculous, but also unbelievable. there is something living down there in the basement. and, to be honest, i almost shat myself when i saw it.

yesterday, i mentioned that i'd found food - sandwiches, vegetable matter and bones in the back room. today i met who was responsible for them.

this is too weird. i saw it, it saw me. we stared, frozen, rooted to our respective spots. it was maybe four feet tall, stick-thin and spindly. dark eyes stuck out under a sloping forehead. a few wisps of hair floated around gleaming skull.

christ alone knows what it thought of me!

we stared at each other. the room felt as if it was tilting. this couldn't be happening!

slowly, it turned, moved away from me and half-scuttled into a corner, where it disappeared from sight.

after that, there seemed very little point in continuing sifting paper, so i sat down for a couple of minutes.

actually, i have no idea how long i sat there, staring into space and thinking about what i'd seen.

my phone buzzed against my leg, snapping me out of it. a text from elaine, a joke about someone i'd never heard of, but probably either a footballer or someone in the big brother house.

i didn't feel like replying, but it did make me realise i couldn't sit around brooding all day.

i texted tam. i didn't mention what i'd seen (actually, by then, i was starting to doubt i'd seen it myself) just tried to get a discussion going about "now you are Hers". anything to take my mind off what'd happened.

i got through the rest of the day - somehow and headed home. i'd texted Ms Simone sometime during the afternoon. when She didn't reply, i remembered that She'd said today would be a busy one and She wasn't sure She'd be in range of a phone.

isn't that always the way, though? the one time i really need my Mistress' arm around me, i can't lay hands on Her!

it's what aviation engineers call "the event cascade". six or eight things all go wrong at once, any one of which the air-crew would have taken in their stride. any two or three would have been hairy, but their training and adrenaline would've got them out of danger.

but when six or more of these micro-emergencies arrive at the same moment, it's all hands on deck. spinning plates until everybody dies.

ho ho - the birthday party

no wee note on reception this morning! back in the basement - result! and best of all?

a pile of file requests, as long as your arm. page after page. so i took the bull by the horns and went to see my supervisor. i showed him the list and asked how he felt about me being there all week.

and guess what? i got the nod.

so i hammered it all morning. attacked that mound of papers and gaping files that filled the back room down there. i even found where the smell was coming from.

because most of the floor was devoted to this mountain of paper, i first pulled out all the files i could find and arranged them into order. after that, it was just stacking the individual sheets of paper by case number.

as i dug through the heap, it became more and more obvious that whoever had put so much care and attention into the filing down Here had been tossing food-detritus into the heap, too.

empty sandwich-casings 'n' crusts, apple cores and orange peels wizened and rock-hard.

there were also things that looked like sausages. thin cylinders with ragged ends. i couldn't figure out what they were, just threw them in the bin-bag anyway.

by about half-eleven, i'd made quite a serious dent in the mess. the floor wasn't cleared, by any stretch of the imagination, but it now looked more like a room full of papers, rather than a mountain.

so i decided to stop for the day. and focus on what was more important. like texting Ms Simone and tam.

tam's joined the Female Supremacy group and we were discussing something we'd seen on there. the photos posted by males trying to hook a Mistress. naked or pretty much naked blokes, usually kneeling, with abuse written on their chests.

i spent the afternoon texting and e-mailing, making the odd run upstairs to the pigeon-holes with files i'd found.

raping a slave - swans

i'm not happy with this work situation. again, i arrive at work with things i could be doing, only to find a note waiting for me on reception.

another day back in my old office. except now at a desk as far removed from the action as could be! back in the basement tomorrow, though.

i'd been up and out first thing. Ms Simone had no time for breakfast and shoo-ed me out. tutu watched me silently throughout this, a thin half-smile playing around her lips.

i got a bus into town and, on a whim, stopped at a café and ordered a couple of scrambled egg rolls and coffee. it's a weird juxtaposition, going from Ms Simone's floor to the steam and smells and hubbub of a city centre café - and all within less than an hour!

and half an hour after that, i was at "my" desk, in work. my inbox was an untidy pile of file requests, threatening to spill at any moment. occasionally, someone or other would flit by, drop another one on top and ask in polite sentence-fragments, "could you..?" or "if you've a moment..?" or "maybe you'd..?"

nobody's watching me. it's as if i barely exist. to be honest, i devoted most of my day to text-tennis. no answer from elaine. or tam, for that matter. Ms Simone must be having as quiet day as me. and Stella, too!

Stella's working Her way through "now you are Hers" with tam, it appears. She's full of questions, having little experience or understanding of F/m relationships. so i did what i could to help.

beside You - iggy pop

Ms Simone rang last night about ten and we talked until almost one.

Her "unavoidable family situation" had resolved itself fairly early and She had Her feet up. She told me, about an hour into the call, that She wished i was there with Her. then excused Herself to make a coffee.

In Her absence, something scratched against the phone and a familiar-ish whisper said, "don't even think about you coming to live here, ok?"

i considered bringing this up with Ms Simone, but decided to wait and see what happened.

She shoo-ed me off to bed, telling me She'd text late morning when She'd decided where we were meeting.

i was up by nine; shaved and showered by ten. it was eleven-thirty when my phone finally signalled that i'd received a text from Her.

i was there first. i remained inside though, this time. the last time we'd used this starbucks', we'd been spotted by some of my colleagues and i wasn't in a hurry to relive the experience.

Ms Simone arrived just after one-twenty, making heads turn - as usual! women's - and males' - eyes followed Her as She cut through the bar like a machete.

we had a quick coffee and moved onto Her shopping. this week, She was mostly looking at hats. they looked a bit weddingy, but i didn't let my curiosity spoil a lovely afternoon.

Ms Simone had mentioned earlier - while we were in starbucks', that we'd be having a meal later, so i walked behind Her, carrying Her purchases and kept my mind focused on that as a goal.

it was well after four when Ms Simone led me into a small café in a side-street hemmed in by huge victorian buildings. they towered into the sky, blotting out the afternoon almost completely.

inside, it felt warm, cosy. an amalgam of restauranty smells hit me at the same time; fish, garlic, beer, wine, something like cheese. a waiter approached silently and, behind him, an arm was waving.

Ms Simone pointed at the waving arm and we followed the waiter through the tables to Stella and tam.

i seated Ms Simone and She ordered wine for Herself, a pint of murphy's for me. the Ladies chatted, tam and i sat in silence.

Rose and harold appeared beside the table like a victorian special effect. tam and got to our feet as harold helped his Mistress sit down.

the waiter returned with menus for the Ladies and mistress Rose ordered a red wine. Ms Simone, at length, picked something italian-sounding and, for me, a vegetarian risotto. i didn't catch what mistress Rose or Stella ordered.

They chatted until their meals arrived. a minute or two later, ours did too. suddenly, with the steam rolling up into my face, i realised how hungry i actually was. Ms Simone tried Hers, took a sip of wine and told me to start mine.

the Ladies chatted while me, tam and harold ate in silence. this continued until it was time to go. outside, we males were allowed to shake hands, but still not to talk.

Ms Simone drove back to Hers, singing along to the CD already in the player. i half recognised the voice, but not the songs. when i asked Her, She looked at me and told me he had an immediately recognisable voice - and that i should try to work it out for myself.

at Hers, She opened the front door and i followed Her in. in the living room, tutu watched us from a large cushion where i usually sat.

she muttered something about the time, stretched and padded to the kitchen. i took Ms Simone's coat and headed back out into the hall. tutu stood by her bowl, clearing her throat.

"you better feed her," called Ms Simone.

"yeah." added the cat. "you'd better."

in the kitchen, i filled and put on the kettle before i went to the fridge.

"just when you've got the time." the cat whispered, its voice edged with violence.

with tutu fed, i was free to focus on my owner and i brought Her a coffee. we sat in silence for a while, until it was time for Ms Simone to go to bed.

the cat came through, gave us a dirty look and demanded to be let out. i looked to Ms Simone, who ignored tutu's threats. the cat, sensing that its wishes weren't going to be met, came over to me and sat beside me, pushing against me slightly. just enough to show who she felt was boss.

i collected my duvet from the bottom of the stairs and got under it. tutu climbed on top of it and leaned back, licking her back legs. i took out my phone to write this and she growled the word "careful", before falling asleep.

friday i'm in love - the cure

Ms Simone opened the door to me in jeans and a big jumper. getting me through the door, She threw Her arms round me and kissed me - no more than a peck, really - on the cheek.

this surprised me.

"I've boiled the kettle for you," She told me. "speeded up the coffee-making process. aren't I just the kindest Mistress?"

we spent the evening chatting as i tidied up around Her. She explained that She had an "unavoidable family situation" and would have to pack me off home first thing in the morning. but that sunday's shopping trip was still on.

She retired just after eleven and i lay in the dark. tutu was nowhere to be seen. i jotted down a few notes for this entry and dozed, surrounded by dream-fragments.

i got up at seven and started readying Her breakfast. She joined me just after eight, which surprised me. i'd been expecting to serve Her breakfast in bed, but no. She had to be out of the house by ten.

so we had breakfast like a conventional couple, chatting about our respective jobs, about the new i-phone, about "the scheme". except only one of us was actually at the table.

i ate mine - kneeling at Her feet - from a bowl on the floor.

when we'd finished, i did the dishes and tidied up a little around Her kitchen.

i saw Her to the car and She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, leaning against it. i was home, in front of my computer, just over an hour later.

there were a few messages on the Female Supremacy group; a couple of serious questions, a couple of obvious fantasists. which is about par for the course, really.

i had an e-mail from harold, quite chatty. he'd been tied up with some renovation work for his Mistress and apologised for the delay in getting back to me about "now you are Hers".

my phone made that weird noise it does when two texts arrive at once and right enough - elaine and tam.

both vying for my attention. i put on a pot of coffee and made myself comfortable, unused to having saturdays to myself any longer.

telephoto lens - the bongos

again, a note waiting for me at reception. would i mind, awfully, going back to my normal office? leaving the filing til monday?

i sighed, folded the note into a pocket and trudged up the stairs.

my desk was tidier than i remember it. which could only mean one thing - it had been given away.

i glanced around the room, but no-one was giving me any eye-contact. i walked back the way i came and knocked on the door to my supervisor's office.

right enough, he'd found me a "new" desk - practically out in the corridor! i wonder if this is his way of "solving" the problem?

i'm starting to resent being stuck back upstairs, where it's harder to text. still, back to the basement on monday.

i squeezed off a quick text to Ms Simone, just to let Her know the situation.

there was allso a message from criminally in-sadie; an invite to view Her new pictures on ic. i made a mental note to forget that as quickly as possible.

becoming someone's property involves a fairly extensive paradigm-shift. now that Ms Simone's talking about 24/7 (at some point) one of the hoops i have to jump through is sloughing off my lifelong habit of making decisions for myself - without losing that ability - in case my owner should require it!

lunchtime, i went to a pub a few streets away, where i was unlikely to run into any of the scum i worked with. i had the veggieburger (surprise surprise!) and chips and texted Ms Simone, stella and elaine.

Stella was busy. elaine seemed uncommunicative, monosyllabic. Ms Simone seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me.

the afternoon crawled by like something injured. still nobody making eye-contact with me. i left around four-thirty, just long enough to let the rest of them get out ahead of me and left.

i walked into town. had a look around hmv and waited for the bus. i'm writing this on that bus to Ms Simone's.

staring at the ceiling - slow children

i didn't sleep well. after i wrote last night's entry, i lay in the dark, thinking things through.

i've been watching the clock all day. that and texting back and forth with Ms Simone. even the cds i'd taken with me to the munch aren't helping - "baba yar" again, the monochrome set's "volume, contrast, brilliance", thirwell's soundtrack to "the venture brothers" and the gun club’s "miami"... all of it uplifting as buggery and i'm too weirded out to let it lift me up.

the problem is, i lay awake for a goodly chunk of the night, trying to make sense of what i'd seen - i know that cats don't talk. you don't have to tell me that!

and Ms Simone just seems to blandly accept this. just another feline foible - like hairball-barfing and tiny corpses brought to the back door.

i saw a couple of the queerbashers at the newsagents' on my way in this morning. you know how, when somebody's staring at you, you start to run a checklist of what could be wrong? a list of things that might have caught their attention.

staying at Hers midweek means i arrive at work a little less rested than i would otherwise.

early night for this one tonight, i'd say.

let's spend the night together - david bowie

i'm exhausted. i met Ms Simone at the munch and as i'd predicted, was instructed to spend the night at Hers.

the munch was pretty good. don't believe anybody, Dom/me or sub, who tells you that they can take or leave munches.

it does you good to be with your own kind. not permanently, not like some sort of warsaw ghetto thing, but now and again. it really recharges my batteries to be in the company of people who i don't feel i have to define or defend myself to.

no sign of tam and Stella and elaine had mentioned earlier in the week that she wouldn't be going.

one person i didn't expect to end up in conversation with was the guy who runs it. same for his mate. now that Ms Simone and i are popularly regarded as "an item", i seem to be getting my feet under a lot more tables.

people who appeared to regard me as peripheral at best, now seem keen on including me in things.

i must continue to monitor this.

back at Hers, Ms Simone told me to make Her coffee in the one of the large mugs.

i did so and carried it through to Her. a bulky-looking grey cat sat at Her feet, where i usually kneel. staring at me with its inscrutable wee face.

"could you feed her, please?" Ms Simone asked. "there's a tin on the top shelf of the fridge." i nodded and retreated to the kitchen.

i found the tin where She'd said and looked around for a dish.

i heard Ms Simone shoo-ing the cat my way. i started to fork chunks into the bowl by the back door. the cat walked sedately up to the bowl, sniffed it and turned to me.

"that's nowhere near - " the cat whispered. i stared. "i want at least double that."

"what?" i pushed out. everything felt trippy and unreal, as if the whole room was wrong and couldn't be trusted.

"you're new Here, right?" the cat nodded towards the tin dangling from my left hand. "hurry up, then. are you mental?"

Ms Simone's voice from somewhere far away.

"oh, don''t mind her. she always thinks she can bully the new subs when they first arrive."

i went back through to where Ms Simone was sitting. She was laughing.

"your face - " She pointed, between giggles. She tried to tell me something else, but it dissolved into more laughter.

eventually, She prised it all out for me. the cat, called "tutu" because she talks like miles davis, had been a present from Her cousin, who worked at that place they made dolly the sheep.

there had been half a dozen of them, left over at the end of whatever experiment they were and, rather than just destroy them, Her cousin had found homes for them.

so. i'm lying Here. tutu's sleeping a few feet away - where Ms Simone usually sits. occasionally, she'll mutter in Her sleep. the only words i've made out for sure are "come Here" and "stupid".

guts - john cale

i've had tam and elaine texting all day. having finished the book, i devoted the entire day to making orange a fortune. oh, and i wrote Ms Simone a long-ish e-mail. my (personal) take on "now you are Hers", chapter by chapter.

the munch is tonight. She was on the phone last night for maybe an hour-and-a-half. i'm trying not to build myself up, but i have a feeling She'll be taking me back to Hers afterwards.

today wasn't bad. i found another room behind the main one. and, in it, several of the files that've been on my list since day one!

there's a different smell in there, that's the first thing you notice. secondly, there are no filing cabinets - it's not even Shelved. the floor is a pile - like a small munro - of files, split asunder, the individual pages spilling out like pressed guts.

today's playlist started off a morbid one. i was thinking of all those who've died this year. "spunk", the sex pistols' bootleg mixed by malcolm mclaren because he thought "bollocks" was too clean and fussy. "slow, deep and hard" by type o negative. i tossed in the ramones' "leave home" since most of them are now dead and the new york dolls' first for the same reason.

i rounded these off with "landed" by can - in memory of michael karoli.

my heart pumps piss for you - körperwelten

another day in the basement, but it'll probably be my last. for this week at least. interestingly, mid-morning, on one of my runs to the post room, i walked straight into two of the ringleaders of the queer-bashing.

i stopped.

so did they.

none of us said a word. i could see it climbing up their faces, trying to get out and the pain it caused them, stopping it.

we pushed past each other and it was over.

today's playlist was a mixed bag. metgumbnerbone's "ligeliahorn", (obviously!) the ramones' first lp, the velvets' "live 1993" and the körperwelten lp.

tam's been texting me all day. Ms Simone's said something to Stella, who's alluded a tidbit to tam the ham. so, of course, he's in gossip mode!

part of this is him trying to find out about male submission, part of it is just him looking for more "julia roberts" stories. the prurient old bastard!

elaine's texted a couple of times, too. i'm not sure what's going on there.

for a while, i thought she might have found mr right (again!) but that doesn't seem to be it at all. maybe something's going on with her family (again!) i don't have enough information to work out what's made her like this and i have no intention of trying to guess.

Ms Simone's been texting on and off all day, too. following on from last night's phonecall where we looked at "now you are Hers", chapter by chapter.

there's more i agree with than disagree with, both in what the Author writes and what the males write, from their side. i noticed, during the call, we're both looking - where a problem is identified, we each have our own perspective on it.

Cleopatra - adam & the ants

another day spent in the basement. today's dancefloor fillers were an album by brighter death now and another by them when they were still called "bomb the daynursery". shostakovich's thirteenth symphony - the baba yar. i also took adam & the ants' "dirk wears white sox" for the hour or so i actually did what i was being paid for!

as luck would have it, the ants (and me kneeling on the floor, alphabetacising folders) coincided with a visit from my supervisor.

most of the day was taken up with the final three chapters of "now you are Hers". but to be honest, i had one ear on the stairs the whole time i was reading, so i'm not sure how well i took it all in.

chapter fifteen looked at the reasons a male might want to end his relationship with his Owner. although She saw this as an impossibility, at the same time, if he was honest about his feelings, it could present Her with a useful glimpse inside Her property’s skull.

chapter sixteen was a summary of a lot of the book. She talked about Her life with Her slave, an overview of twelve years of consensual non-consent. it was obvious from the way She described him, their struggles and triumphs, that She loved him as much as he did Her.

there were one or two paragraphs about other Mistress/slave relationships, some of Her Friends. and some of the other males quoted throughout the book.

seventeen's a list of other resources that the aspiring male slave might gain from. i made a mental note to start scanning them when i got home.

and apart from the having to listen out for anyone coming down the stairs, i've been thinking about smoking most of the day, too.

both Ms Simone and Stella have been texting throughout the day, quite obviously in cahoots. i'm not sure if t is is some form of test, or whether They're just fillying with me, but it's been enough to keep my spider-sense ticking over.

i thought it was funny, She only being on the phone for an hour last night. She's obviously up to something - but it's not obvious what that might be.

today's lesson- nick cave and the bad seeds

i was planning to have this up hours ago. i'm back in the basement tomorrow and wanted an early night. then Ms Simone rang. She wanted to talk.

i forgot to make a note of the time She called, so i have no real idea of how long She was on, but it must've been at least three hours.

things are changing pretty fast. so fast sometimes, that i don't notice anything changing, just that it's changed.

i'll give you an example.

Ms Simone told me, during tonight's phonecall, that She's considering having me in Her home. as Her twenty-four/seven!

talk about out-of-the-blue!

i was a bit taken aback, to be honest. She hadn't intimidated any hint of this before tonight.

plus, i'm still thinking about the thrashing She gave me yesterday. about those expressions of joy and determination that fought it out across Her face. Her smile and that chuckle She did each time She beat some new exclamation of pain from between my lips.

and i've been having nicotine withdrawal ever since. perhaps due to the intensity of the play, perhaps due to being around someone who smokes, i don't know.

it wasn't so bad while we were shopping, but when we stopped at the pub, it kicked in. and again. and again. every time She went out for one, i got the cravings. in capitals!

while we were shopping, i had other things to focus on, i suppose.

Ms Simone drove off and i got the bus home. there was a couple arguing most of the way back. he'd mutter something under his breath, then go silent. she'd give it a few seconds, then start complaining about something else. at the top of her voice.

they looked about the twenty mark. both quite attractive with flame-out-fast looks. she'd never get her weight back down after her first kid and he'd give up on his teeth by thirty.

something about them felt indescribably sad. why do so many people just give up and let go so young?

when i started to contrast and compare with what i had with Ms Simone, the juxtaposition was heart-rending.

what do they gain by accepting and swallowing the lie whole? people do the silliest things - as long as there's some sort of payoff involved.

i just can't see what they gain. or hope to gain.

first time - the boys

i'd had my shower before last night's entry and was just drying as i typed it up.

i met Ms Simone, as agreed, in the tranny-skull. we had a couple there before tam appeared to give us a lift to the club. one problem with travelling in a vehicle with two Dominant Ladies is that They - and only They - have the right to choose the music.

so, all the way there, i was beset with some vicious rnb nonsense of Stella’s. of course, They made me sit in the front beside tam, so They could relax and stretch Their legs. worryingly, Ms Simone seemed to know the words to a lot of this garbage!

i think we may have to discuss this. as a possible hard limit.

the club was great fun. there were a couple of tam's congregation there, dead pleased to see him. i introduced Ms Simone to them as tam did Stella.

as i understand it, they've long regarded tam as up-the-food-chain from them. i'd say half of them are vanilla - and the other half submissive. so it must be kind of strange for them to see tam in a subservient role.

still it wasn't a bad night. the music was only mostly awful and a couple of times, it almost hit "bearable". Ms Simone and Stella went into a sort of "goodness gracious me" routine about Whose sub was the best, trying to outdo Each Other with exorbitant and hard-to-prove claims about how obedient and faithful tam and i were.

of course, it soon degenerated into how inexperienced we were, how economical we were to operate.

"all Mine eats is sand!" shrieked Stella.

"sand?" Ms Simone raised an eyebrow. "You have to go all the way to the beach to feed it?" She tossed Her head. My one's happy with earth from My garden."

it was one of those nights where the whole thing shoots past. one minute, you just got there and are busy scatter-firing hellos, the next, the music's gone slow and it's time to saddle up.

tam dropped us at Ms Simone's. the least said about that cd of Stella’s the better!

actually, this might be a serious issue - traditionally, the journey to-and-from any fetish club should be an opportunity to play music that doesn't make anyone want to self harm.

Ms Simone was tired, so i made Her a cup of earl grey and knelt at Her feet while She relaxed with it. She was tucked up in bed and i was wrapped in the single duvet within an hour of us getting back.

it had been a long day, so i went straight to sleep.

i was up early, just after eight, to get things ready for Ms Simone's breakfast. She'd told me She wanted to sleep til ten, so i did a few dishes and tidied the detritus on the coffee table.

i used the time to let my mind drift to my Ex. when i take it out and look at it now, there's no pain at the severing of the good times. more a sense that it had been both fun and a learning curve - for us both.

the differences between the Ex and Ms Simone are staggering - i realise i'm surprising myself with the equal depths of feeling i've had for them both.

at different times, obviously.

i wonder how much i've changed over the last few years on my own. could i even handle a high protocol, silent service relationship these days? would i even bother to try?

it feels, i think, like a closed chapter in my life. what She offered sounded exciting and different to situations i'd been in before. as, i guess, Ms Simone's does now.

i'm not the person i was back then. and, just as that was my perfect relationship then, this is ideal for the present day.

i heard Ms Simone moving around just before ten and put Her toast on. i took it up at ten past and knocked on Her door.

"enter." She called out and i walked into the room. the door slid back silently behind me.

Ms Simone was lying in bed, a pale yellow dressing-gown around Her shoulders. a small netbook lay on Her lap and a cigarette curled smoke from an ashtray beside it.

i put the tray i was carrying on the bed beside Her. She pointed to the floor beside Her bed and i knelt.

we chatted, amiably enough over Her breakfast until it was time for Her shower.

after Her shower, She shouted through for another coffee and told me to bring it to the sitting room and wait for Her there.

i don't know how long i waited before i heard the door open and felt the air move slightly around me where i knelt.

"eyes down" She said and as i obeyed, i saw Her feet and ankles move in front of me as She sat on the low couch.

after a few long, tense moments, She told me to lift my eyes. on Her lap was a short whip i'd never seen before.

"have you ever been beaten with a sjambok before?"

She was smiling.

i shook my head.

slowly.

She continued smiling, lifting it up closer to my face.

"kiss it." She said.

i did so.

She told me to choose a piece of music for Her to beat me to. i thanked Her and went to my bag.

the whole room felt spongy and unreal. i picked out metgumbnerbone's "ligeliahorn", more on autopilot than anything else and returned to hand it to Her.

She inspected it and handed me it back. motioned to the dvd player.

i slid the cd in. pressed -close- on the remote. held onto it til the sound started. raised the volume slightly.

i knelt before Her and handed Her the remote. She was leaning back.

everything felt like a dream.

***** *****

when Ms Simone told me i could stand, conflicting emotions fought it out in my psyche. there was no denying i was glad that it was over, but at the same time, i wanted it to continue. wanted to show Her the strength, the resilience i had for Her.

if i'm honest, some of it was wanting Her pleasure to continue.

She led me to the couch and worked me into a semi-foetal position, my head resting on Her chest and shoulder.

instantly, i felt secure and protected. cared for. calm in the knowledge i'd pleased my Goddess.

i don't know how long we lay like that, holding each other.

as i came out of it more fully, Ms Simone shoo-ed me to the kitchen to make coffees for us.

we lay together on the couch. it felt weird being on the furniture with Her, but also right, being beside Her. both at the same time. and neither.

oh, i know what i'm trying to say!

we remained there all evening. watched "ichi the killer", which looked good, but kind of washed over me.

Ms Simone got up and fetched "my" duvet before She went to bed.

i wrote this lying Here.

the bowel of beelzebub - steroid maximus

back in the basement today. i'd half-worried after yesterday that i'd be back in my office - "the problem" having "blown over" in my absence.

today's pop picks and underground dancefloor-fillers were: max bruch (again - great for reading/writing to!) navicon torture technologies (ditto) and, like the bruch symphonies, the two ntt albums are doubles, "church of dead girls" and "gospels of the gash".

funny, i love all sorts of music (with very few exceptions) and i'm not sure why, but all of today's are musics i love to scene to!

i don't think that was a conscious decision i made, it just sort of struck me mid-morning.

this is almost like a day off work! pottering around, sorting out the filing system, listening to the music i want and keeping up with my emails and texts. the reception's not great down Here in the bowels of the earth, but enough for me to remain in contact with both Ms Simone and tam.

and, best of all, i'm back Here on monday! i doubt it, but it's possible i could be down Here all of next week, too.

so. quite a lazy day. i had built up a backlog of files to be sent up during the week, so today, i posted one into internal mail per hour.

on the downside, i've had a wee touch of nicotine withdrawal all day. actually, to tell the truth, that started last night. when Ms Simone was on the phone.

i'm used to the feeling by now. and i have no intention of giving into it.

my strategy for avoiding this is to focus on the good stuff - "now you are Hers" and the club we're going to tonight.

i've read another two chapters of the book today. chapter thirteen is the life stories of males who've come into slavery. firstly, what they did before they "came out" to themselves. their failed marriages and painful divorces. apparently it's normal - if not obligatory - for one's nilla ex to bad-mouth you as a deviant to friends, family, lawyers, social services and even the police.

the second part looked at the males’ fantasies. the childhood daydreams (and how closely these resembled their adult fetishes). how they learned to accept themselves.

finally, the chapter ended with comparisons between how happy and fulfilled they felt as slaves against all the other periods of their lives.

chapter fourteen, strangely, was brief texts written by various Dominant Women of Her acquaintance, listing and/or detailing what They looked for in a male.

most had "companionship" right at the top of what They wanted. "laughter" was another popular one.

"eight inches of tongue and/or cock" didn't seem to be on any of Their lists. funny, that.

like gil grissom said, "all any of us wants is to be loved/treasured/valued on our own terms. and after that, it's just preference and opportunity.

mix-up - cabaret voltaire

i had Ms Simone on the phone last night. first for about forty-five minutes, then an hour or so after than for another hour!

the second call was, by far, the most interesting. most of it was focused on Female Supremacy (in general) and where that differed from Her own, personal variation of it.

i went straight to bed after Her call, still turning some of Her ideas over in my head.

i'd kind of decided that i'd take the book in with me today and read a bit more of it on their time. when i arrived, there was a note waiting for me as i signed in at reception. i was to report back to my old office.

nothing was said when i walked in, although i notice my desk had become a repository for things nobody knew what to do with. which is acceptable - we all do that when someone's off.

i had a few texts from tam starting about eleven. i got the impression he had something on his mind, but needed a bit more of my attention before he'd give it up.

i'd checked the group this morning, to see if anyone had replied to my post on breadmakers. and the original poster had.

my relationship with breadmakers is this: they're useless. why not buy a decent food processor and have done with it?

my place - the adverts

i'm starting to feel quite at home in "my" basement. this morning, i took in a set of computer speakers and my old CD walkman. music while you work! before i left the house this morning, i closed my eyes and picked up half a dozen cds - by the time i got to work, i had mott the hoople's "the hoople", the first clash lp, stravinky's "rite of spring", toll's "christ knows", johnny thunders' "so alone" and max bruch's collected symphonies.

i was just leaving at lunchtime when i ran into two of the cash room girls. they were heading for lunch, so i tagged along when asked.

of course, the underlying reason for my being invited was the gossip. over the course of lunch, i was asked about both elaine (thursday) and Ms Simone (sunday).

by complete coincidence, my morning had been devoted to a bout of text-tennis; me playing both Ms Simone and elaine (and Stella, now i think of it). i refused to be drawn on who these ladies might be - even when the spectre of the queer-bashing was alluded to.

i couldn't wait to get back and tell both of them about this latest development!

something else i did this morning was post a reply to a new thread on the group. somebody was asking about breadmakers and i threw my tuppenceworth in!

last night's phonecall was the full three hours. again, we discussed Female Supremacy - both the generic take on it and Ms Simone's specific personal requirements.

She’s given me a couple more authors to look up. other Female Supremacists, i suppose. i saved the names into my phone and i'll have a look for them later in the week.

underground - sparks

today, i have to say, wasn't that bad. ok, i do come home a bit dirty after spending the day in the basement, but it's refreshing being away from those bastards and that office.

that said, i will not be staying down there for long.

one really good thing about being down there is, i'm my own boss. i have a list of files and papers various people would like me to find, so each morning, i hunt down maybe a dozen of these and put them to one side.

every hour-and-a-half to two hours, i stick one or two in the internal mail and cross it off my list. the rest of my day is spent tidying and rationalising the mess down there. and trying to get a signal, so i can send long-ish e-mails to anyone i'm chatting with.

this afternoon, i had a brief exchange with tam. and most of the day was devoted to discussing my new diary with Ms Simone.

the plan is, i write down any sexual fantasies that occur to me. i wasn't sure how much detail She wanted, whether the focus was on controlling me through sexual desire. or whether i should use broad strokes in order to try to turn Her on, too.

we'd started discussing it on the phone last night (for three hours, fact fans!) and continued throughout today.

if anything, the fantasies i'm noticing seem to be being coloured by the case histories i'm reading in "now you are Hers". not that i'm treating what i'm reading as wank-fodder, far from it! but a number of the situations described do strike me as both challenging and, once these challenges are transcended, might well carry the seeds of great development.

chapter thirteen was quite a revelation! again, mainly life-stones by males of the author's acquaintance, looking at the changes in moving from one Mistress to another.

with my Ex, everything was protocol-based. pain was used to educate, to illustrate and to alter behaviour-patterns.

i have to say, i loved Her for the time i belonged to Her. i did my best to subsume all my desires into Hers.

She was great in many ways, but romantically, we just weren't compatible. we tried everything - but we just didn't match. not properly.

being in another relationship, obviously i'm going to contrast and compare these two Women. no disrespect to Either - and i'm certainly not going to base expectations on One in terms of the Other, but when Both have occupied such a similar role in my life, of course my mind's going to be looking for patterns.

the impossible dream - the sensational alex harvey band

i got in from work and replied to harold's last two messages. i've been working on this e-mail in my head all day. this week in the basement should be good for that; turning things over in my head.

it wasn't my intention to poke fun at harold over his inconsistencies; more just to enquire gently what he meant. sometimes, we can have something straight in our heads, but can't communicate that accurately to others.

i worked through another couple of chapters of "now you are Hers". chapter eleven is a variation on the bdsm checklist. a list of activities, graded from "oh yes, please!" to "i'm dialing 999" - but also whether the slave would accept them from a Male, a Woman, or Both.

chapter twelve was mainly written by the slaves from before. talking about how they'd been trained to accept things they'd previously thought were hard limits.

it was fascinating reading. all those males, with their different takes on slavery, all of them with different things they believed they couldn't take - ever.

and each of them the property of an implacable Goddess, who wanted what they thought they could never give.

from blindfolds to cuckoldry, each of these males had come up against his own, personal wall - and, with the support of his Owner, transcended that.

passing through that fire, they all seemed to say, made them not only better slaves, but more fully rounded human beings.

all our fears and phobias, just like our fetishes, are the domain of the ego.

following our discussion yesterday evening, tonight's phonecall kept returning to "now you are Hers". in particular, how closely my own thoughts and understanding mirrored each of the males in the book. having been made aware of these comparisons, i'm now looking more deeply at each as i read it. holding it up against my beliefs and experience.

there was a short meeting with my supervisor this morning. stressing mainly that i'm not being simply dumped in the cellar like an un-photogenic royal monster.

time will tell.

up in Her room - the seeds

She went off to bed around eleven. i'm lying where Her feet were, wrapped in the same single duvet as before. and i've worked out how to send these from my phone.

after i arrived yesterday afternoon, She put me to work, cleaning. i'd done the kitchen and just about finished the bathroom when She called through to me that She was hungry and i should make us both something to eat.

i'd scoped out the fridge when i was cleaning that, so i cobbled together some onion, sweetcorn and mushrooms in marmite and peanut butter. i used up the half carton of double cream and served the whole thing on fingers of toast.

this went down well and the evening was spent in front of the tv. Her watching it, me putting up with it!

we started discussing "now you are Hers". actually, this discussion has continued on-and-off, all weekend.

She retired about eleven, which is, i'm seeing, normal for Her and i made myself comfortable on the living-room floor.

it struck me that i should be able to post these up using my cellphone, but i didn't work out how until earlier tonight.

one funny thing occurred when we were out shopping this afternoon. we'd popped into the starbucks facing onto the pier to get coffees to drink on the hoof. the combination of the smell, the cakes and the fact there were seats changed Her mind. by the time we'd been served, She'd decided to sit in.

she led us to a seat outside by the window. right next to the short canvas divider that separated starbucks' tables from those of the pub next door. it was only when i sat down, i noticed that two tables away were a crowd of blokes. short hair, t-shirts and football tops - and a couple of truly terrible moustaches.

and two of them i recognised from work!

it took several seconds for it to register who i was, how they knew me, what i might be doing. i never said i worked beside brain-giants. after that, they kept shooting looks across. as if daring Her to revert back to Her male form.

eventually, even Ms Simone had spotted them and the way they were looking at us - and in particular, Her. She arched an eyebrow.

i mouthed the word, "work" and watched a smile unfurl across Her face. the next twenty minutes were like an incredible dream.

for the duration of our coffees, Ms Simone touched me constantly, leaned forward and occasionally pronounced words like "bed" or "breasts" loud enough to carry.

when She'd finished Her cappuccino, we left, Her arm around my shoulder and crossing down my back, Her hand in my back pocket, kneading my buttock.

back in Her car, She reverted to Her usual self and She drove us back to Hers in silence. no CD, no radio, nothing. this only happens when She's processing something.

neither of us were all that hungry, so i opened a tin of soup and Ms Simone had that with some sliced brie-and-apple on toast. She left me a little of each, which i had once She'd finished.

She brought up the subject of "now you are Hers" and we compared notes on it. obviously, from two very different viewpoints - to me, it's a workbook; exercises for getting through this process.

to a Dominant Woman though, the book serves as skeleton keys to the male psyche.

i talked a little about some of the ideas raised in the book. i think the single most refreshing thing about this system is, it abandons completely the myth of the implacable UberDomme and stresses that, if you want to be a slave, for it to succeed, it'll have to be with an "ordinary" Woman. Someone with a job, more than likely with kids, Someone who cries, loses Her temper and sometimes just wants a cuddle.

and for those males who insist on a Goddess - one who's In Character 24/7, may i recommend those Ladies with the staples around their navels.

laughing at Me - alice cooper

"now you are Hers" is one of the best books i have ever read. top twenty, for sure. i read a couple of chapters last night. eight seems to take a step backwards, looking at the issues affecting males in vanilla relationships trying to introduce their un-or-pre dominant Wives and Girlfriends to what Female Supremacy could do for them.

it's a common enough thread on both ic and fetlife; christ, it was a common enough subject back in the days of internet relay chat!

chapter nine dealt with the difference between initiative and topping-from-the-bottom, a crime the Author seemed to equate with terrorism and child abuse. only far, far worse.

i forgot about it while Ms Simone was on the phone. we were both too busy making plans for me to report to Hers today!

oh, and weirdly enough, an e-mail from harold. quite a long and rambling effort and contradicting one or two points from his last mail.

i really should speak to Ms Simone - or even Mistress Rose - and see if there's any guidelines for dealing with him while he's this medicated.

still, the mail was friendly and communicative and answered several of the issues i'd raised. i did notice though, that he contradicted several things he'd said to me previously. i'm not going to go into this here on a publicly viewable blog, but suffice to say, he's not exactly consistent.

when i looked on ic, i noticed elaine had posted something on "the hitty giggles". not something i've ever experienced myself, but i have heard of it happening.

supposedly, once you get through the "heroin-y" bit of subspace, there's a much more "trippy" phase, often characterised by giggling, even uncontrollable laughter. i'm really not sure about this.

years ago, i was with a partner i'd managed to convince to tie me up. you know, a tourist, trying on bdsm for size. never thought of it before and unlikely to experiment with it again.

anyway, i'd got her to tie me up and, being both young and vanilla, she wasn't exactly equipped with hitty things.

she was going to use an old belt of hers. we were both young, she'd tied me up and i was very very excited. and i started giggling. a combination of nervousness and excitement.

when she started shouting, i (wrongly) assumed this was part of it, but no. out of her depth, she (wrongly) assumed i was laughing at her - when nothing could have been further from the truth.

we kind of let things drop after that.

i wonder whatever happened to her?

eve white, eve black - siouxsie and the banshees.

i was called into my supervisor's office first thing this morning. obviously he's in over his head, but he is trying. one short-term solution is for me to be reassigned to the basement for a week or so. i felt - and pointed out - that this was only a temporary solution. that it would only postpone the problem for however long i was away.

"we don't want to lose you," he said. which usually means "i'm shit-scared that your problem might adversely affect my job."

the short and the fat of it was, i agreed to relocate to the basement for one week, starting monday. he agreed that he'd impose "sensitivity training" on a number of the prime movers in the bullying and have it sorted before i came back.

i'm so glad i have the Female Supremacy group to give myself a power-boost before work! this morning, there were no posts i felt i had to supply my tuppenceworth to, so i sketched out my feelings on the first half of "now you are Hers".

i'm just over halfway through and last night, Ms Simone and i discussed some of the issues that're coming up for me. i've offered to keep a diary for Her. She wants to think about it.

obviously, i have this journal and would put this at Her disposal. we were on the phone about two hours and this was a subject that we kept coming back to from different angles, without any resolution or conclusion.

i met elaine for lunch. the sort of place that they fill with steel, glass and concrete in the hopes office drones will have accidents there.

because she works in a school, the elaine that turns up during working hours is like a different person to the one i meet in "real life".

something had to be said. i apologised for hardly speaking to Her during the party. she waved it away just as our meals arrived.

she was, however, eager to know how exactly criminally insadie fitted into mine-and-tam's lives. i gave Her an edited version of the time we met her and tam's brief fling with Her.

i asked Her about the rugger-bugger and it turns out i was right. he wasn't the new dom - just some random geezer who'd ended up at the party and spent the entire night hitting on her!

what is it about bossy nillas? they think if somebody's identifying themselves as submissive, that's their free pass to a shag?

i drifted back to the office and noticed from the corner of an eye that everyone seemed to be gearing up for a night's drinking.

as they faded away after four, i decided to work a bit flexi. i wasn't going to Ms Simone's until tomorrow, so i might as well.

back home, another one of harold's two line e-mauls. how did he ever pull someone like Mistress Rose if this is his idea of electronic conversation?

maybe he's a fantastic cook or something.

the gift - the velvet underground

i'm really starting to get my head around "now you are Hers", i think. i read chapters six and seven last night. then i went back and re-read chapter one in the light of what i'd just read.

chapter six was about males getting in touch with the symbolism that underpins their fantasies, while seven looked at understanding limits and accepting that your Owner has the right of veto over any of them.

throughout, the Author recommends that the male subject keep a diary of his feelings as he becomes more and more of a thing, less of a person.

everything should go into this, his successes and his failures, the times that he loves Her as well as the times he hates, fears and/or resents Her.

after i'd read it, i wrote an e-mail to Ms Simone, asking Her perspective on some of these issues. then i wrote to harold, a broadly similar e-mail, although asking more from a slave-to-slave point of view. then i turned the computer off and climbed into bed.

it was someone's birthday at work today. one of the women from the cash-room. i quite like her in fact, but i'm sticking to my strategy of keeping my head down until further notice.

i think if it wasn't for all the bullshit in the air just now, i might have gone for lunch with them. there was a touch of pressure to attend - after all, i was on their turf at the time!

the cash-room lot don't seem to be part of the generalised queer-hate i'm facing.

as it was, i devoted lunchtime to shopping. shopping for Her, in fact.

it occurred to me the other night that i've yet to buy Her a present. nothing fancy or break-the-banky, just a little gesture of my respect. i nosed around the market for a bit.

the first place i looked was Mistress HoneyBunny's stall, but nothing jumped out at me. i'm unsure of what size She is, and buying a Lady a crop or paddle this close to the start of a relationship is a bit pushy, to say the least!

so i settled for a DVD. when in doubt, there's always fopp. and anyone can find the right film with sufficient time to dig!

tam texted me as i was going back into work. did i want to hook up for a couple? i agreed and, on the off-chance, texted Ms Simone to check this was ok.

i'm not at all sure whether we've reached that stage yet, but i t ought it was better to be safe than sorry.

i met tam in some pub in town i hadn't heard of before but google maps had. the décor was so innocuous, the music so understated, that it felt like a pub in the process of coming out as gay.

"it think it's a gay-friendly pub," tam explained. "lady gaga on day and night and you don't get served unless you can prove you've got cement on your boots." i slid my office-drone footwear further under the table.

we chatted for a while about this 'n' that, before he mentioned criminally insadie. as i'd thought, Stella hadn't been a big fan. just what anybody needs at the start of a brand new relationship - physical evidence that your new sweetheart and potential life-partner has an idiot for an ex.

i mentioned "now you are Hers" to tam and he seemed interested. if nothing else, i could do with somebody else to discuss it with. harold's all very well, but he tends to flick in and out of focus a lot.

it wasn't a particularly heavy conversation. tam seems to be coping pretty well with the changes he's going through. we gave it a couple of hours and went out separate ways. i came home and had a look at the group, before writing this.

when She comes - van der graaf generator

my meeting with my supervisor/imbecile went fairly well. he took copious notes, asked several questions (and got an extra two points for not asking whether i actually am l,g,b,t or not!)

we were in there forty-five minutes. he says he'll get back to me within seven days.

(flashback) reading the Female Supremacy group before work's really setting me up for the day, i'm finding. it's like a line of really good speed. i'm arriving at the coalface feeling really positive about who i am, which has to be a good thing, right?

it's also cross-fertilising what i'm reading in "now you are Hers". i checked and it was only published last year. and yet, there's a "dated" feel to it somehow; as if ideas are racing and mutating even faster than i'd thought!

i read chapters four and five last night. they dealt with conflict-resolution (4) and development of a slaves' mindset (5).

the first half of chapter four's common sense, really. in all things, your Mistress is always right. where it gets interesting is the males talking about how they beat off their egos to fall into line with their Owners' wishes.

again and again, the submissive male hits that wall. the male ego, societal pressure 'n' expectations, call it what you will. that's still the big hurdle we all have to get over.

five's a bit more "self-helpy" in a sense. a brief introduction by the Author followed by half a dozen case histories; males reporting their successes and failures as they did their bit to see themselves as property and let go of the sense of themselves as autonomous individuals.

i checked my e-mail this morning and found a couple of responses to the personal history i'd posted on the group last night.

supportive, for the most part. one or two questions. one in particular, grabbed my attention. this'll need a more considered response than i had time for this morning.

it was a question about chastity.

chastity devices, to be precise.

read it in books - echo & the bunnymen

i got my reply from elaine early this morning. she'd been "a bit tied up" (her words) since the party. and would i fancy lunch later in the week?

i checked my phone and suggested thursday. useless for her, so we arranged it for friday.

two lunch dates this week. Ms Simone wants me to meet Her tomorrow. partly social, partly intelligence-gathering, partly (i think) She wants to pump me to see where i've got to with that Female Supremacy book She sent me. which i'd better throw myself into again tonight.

the introduction and the first three chapters set the scene. it's written by a Woman (She hates the term Domme; says it's a male fantasy-myth) but is full of sections written by males; Her one and others owned by Her Friends.

these early chapters are on the reality of ownership/slavery, with special emphasis (in chapter two) on the adjustments both parties must make for the relationship to work.

chapter three deals with what She calls "the male-sub's dichotomy". that crisis point where each male has to decide whether to stay in the fantasy - or whether he wants to risk it all, cross the abyss and take his rightful place at the feet of one of The Superior Gender.

i got torn into the book after Ms Simone's phonecall (which only lasted an hour). after that, i had a quick surf, stopping at fetlife, where Stella'd left me a message. chatty, without giving anything away, She apologised for yesterday's third degree, saying She'd been confused by tam's relationship with sadie - and hadn't realised it all happened four years ago.

it was then i noticed the friend request. from sadie mae glutz. i clicked on ok, wondering if this was the best move i could make. when i looked on ic, i must've still had her on my friends-list. there was a semi-breathless memo from her, telling me she'd added me on fetlife.

there was also a message from harold, asking how i was finding the Female Supremacy group. i wrote back, brimming with positivity. i'd almost finished my personal history and was about to post that up to the group.

i realise i'm feeling more at home in fantasy worlds just now than i am in the so-called real world. whether on-line communities or this Mistress/slave world i'm building with Ms Simone, i'm more comfortable Here than in the daylife.

maybe this is nature's way of telling me to find another job.

my best friend's Girl - the cars

i captured my supervisor in the toilets this afternoon. wrong place at the wrong time. the arseholes haven't even been particularly out of order today. it's just monday and i'm pissed off at being back on the chain-gang after such a cracking weekend.

so i demanded a pow-wow with him. subject: homophobic abuse. he's put me off til wednesday and i made it known that if "something comes up" and he cancel-postpones, i'll be taking it back to my company. which means his bosses roasting his nuts over an open fire.

very christmassy image, i thought. he said he'd make the time. and memo me to let me know.

fine. wednesday it is, then.

Stella texted throughout the afternoon. it sounds like criminally insadie's been discussed at length since the party. i told Her what i knew. tam and i met her in liverpool in 2006-or-7, she's from manchester, we hadn't seen her in years. yes, she's completely bonkers; yes, i believe she does take more pills than an old folks' home; no, tam hasn't mentioned her recently.

i texted elaine to see if i'd missed anything on saturday. she still hasn't replied.

actually, last night, i got an e-mail from Ms Simone. With a .pdf attatchment. She'd said at the party that She'd sent me “something”, but wouldn't be pressed for specifics. this must be it.

"now you are Hers", it's called and it looks like it might be pretty useful.

i'll try to get started on it over the next day or two. i also took a few notes for an outline of my social and romantic history for the Female Supremacy group.

sexy sadie - the beatles

elaine's party was remarkable for several things. i should probably be doing this in chronological order, but hey - it's my blog and i'll tarrentino if i want to!

it's the first time Ms Simone and i have got drunk. it's not the first time i've been deep in my cups m'lud, thomas fennwick to the witness stand!) and i'm pretty sure Ms Simone's achieved inebriation previously, too.

but it's the first time we've done it together. the first time i've seen Her pished. heard that slightly squeaky edge Her voice gets after a shedload of red.

of course, She was my main focus - my reason for breathing, let alone attending!

another funny thing was running into sadie mae glutz - or criminally insadie, to give her her full title. i didn't even bother asking how she'd ended up there. some things aren't worth knowing.

years ago, tam and i went to liverpool for a club. it took us hours to find it - and these were the days before the internet fitted on your phone. anyway, tam pulled - i didn't. sadie mae glutz - named after one of charles manson's followers - was what he pulled.

i don't think she knew a whole lot of people there, so when she spotted me, she latched on at once. like a ferret in false eyelashes.

Ms Simone sized her up pretty quickly, which was handy. i started to worry, though. with tam-and-Stella set to arrive at any moment, this had all the hallmarks of avant-farce - with none of the laughter.

it wasn't even like i could ditch her and talk to someone else - the only other person in the room i "knew" was Eddie's former slave, patsy. we'd nodded when Ms Simone and i arrived, but i hadn't even bothered introducing them.

so, she's compressing the whole of recent history, small enough to fit into a single breath - "you remember dave, fat guy, came from bolton, well, he lost six stone and moved to st helen's and Angela's got this new sub, turns out they was at school together or something and brian's in prison, caught with a carload of speed and that was the year before last and his wife's seeing that guy i spilled the drink over at the rubber riot that time - it was there i met you and, wotshisname, tam, wasn't it?"

the silence yawned.

i started to totter.

"do you still see him? anyway..." she yittered on in overdrive, names, places, sticky ends. "Master Humpty - d'you remember Him? lovely bloke, bit psychotic? anyway - " i watched her suck in a huge breath, fuelling herself for another installment. "anyway, He had this sub, she used to have hallucinations - religious ones, like - so he wanted to get all trannied up as an archbishop and me to be his nun-on-a-leash when she was kicking off on one, right? it was like a fookin' james bond operation, me on-call with me suitcase, for about a month, before she cracks on they've only changed her fookin' medication and she said it made her a bit sleepy and she thinks she's already told Him. I was in fookin’ pleats!"

this continued for what seemed like months, before she spotted something shiny and charged off to exhaust them or it. Ms Simone and i looked at each other in the sudden rush of silence.

i think that was the moment we took the decision to get drunk.

"there's a story there, isn't there?" She enquired. i nodded.

"tam and i were in liverpool a few years back." i sighed, spotting Stella bursting through the door and hugging an overweight woman. "and he does seem to go for blondes..."

tam appeared at my elbow at that moment, carrying their coats. "blondes?" he said. "who's blonde? i bet lady Stella can take her, whoever she is!" he did that dirty chuckle and backed away from us. it was all over too fast. there was nothing either of us could have done.

Stella appeared. "where's that lazy slave of mine got to with the drinks?"

tam reappeared, still carrying the coats. he looked like he'd just scened with a ghost.

behind him, filling the doorway, came criminally in-sadie, already shrieking his name. the entire room, which had filled up nicely by now, stared.

"tam, you fat coont! it's meeeee - say-dih!" facing me, tam swallowed. sadie barged into our group, banging tam on the back. as the coats slipped from his grasp, he and i dived to catch them, banging our foreheads in the process.

Ms Simone and Stella stared. i felt my cheeks redden. sadie was pointing at my chest, bellowing at the Ladies.

"are you Is? e's not bad, i spose - right randy, though, inne? and, can you oondestand what e's sayin? e's all fookin accent to me!" she let out a huge laugh, then looked serious. she leaned forward to Stella and said, "you Is soob? E's awright, that un. bit mad for it wi the ale, though. oh, we ad soom fookin laughs, eh?" she hit tam across the shoulders again and he wobbled, nearly dropping the coats again.

Stella looked as if She wanted an explanation - at once. i saw a couple of looks pass between Her and tam, between Her and Ms Simone. sadie was still yittering.

"we ad soom fookin mad pills, eh lad? ave you still got thar ouse oop by the boneyard? i'm oney askin 'cause i need a bit floorspace - me fella was spose to be fixin up a otel, boot he's nowhere to be seen, is e?"

Ms Simone interjected to send me for further wine at that point, sadie stumbled over the interruption.

"oo doos She think She is, eh?" she nudged my ribcage - hard. "fookin Oober-Dommes, it's a shame They ave to shit, it's so common, eh?"

there was a massive silence that seemed to drag on for weeks.

Ms Simone coughed, held up Her empty glass. i excused myself and headed to the kitchen.

in the kitchen, surrounded by less strident party-hubbub, i wondered what had caused her to appear. when i got back, Ms Simone was alone. sadie had disappeared, as had tam and Stella.

so we got drunk. not falling-about, neglecting-the-power-dynamic drunk, just giggly, what-if inebriated.

and Ms Simone looked beautiful! as if She'd done something imperceptible to enhance Her loveliness. something i couldn't put my finger on, but was real and tangible nonetheless.

She decided that we should leave around midnight. which was fine by me. sadie would flit past from time to time. and occasionally, Her shriek would be heard, when she managed to corner someone.

we went to say our goodnights to elaine, having forgotten about her for most of the night. she introduced us to a guy built like a rugby player in an england top. we made our excuses and left. my gut feeling, though, was that this wasn't any sort of companion...

outside, i hailed a taxi. we headed back to Hers mostly in silence, although i appreciated Her snuggling into me.

back at Hers, i made coffees and knelt by Her feet to drink mine. i was sent to make Her four rounds of toast and marmite. and more coffee.

when She'd had enough, She put the plate on the carpet in front of me. one-and-a-half slices untouched and the crusts from Hers.

she took Herself off to bed as before, my duvet making a soft whump as it hit the hall floor. i ran over the instructions She'd given me regarding Her breakfast before putting them into my phone.

then i slept.

the next morning, She wanted to get moving bright and early.

we got shopping early and i'd carried Her purchases to Her car by one. She fancied lunch at a place on the waterfront - called "on the waterfront" and i trotted obediently after Her.

it was decorated (surprise surprise) in pictures of brando with a touch of sacrasm. johnny from "the wild one”, colonel kurtz, even jor-el from "superman"... but nowhere did i see terry malloy. christ, there was even a poster for "last tango in paris". i made a mental note not to have butter on my baked potato. suddenly, Ms Simone was waving over the heads of the crowd and weaving through them. i followed Her to a table where Mistress Rose and harold were waiting. harold stood up to give Ms Simone his seat and he and i stood beside our respective Owners.

lunch, i have to say, dragged. standing meant constantly moving to let other people through and Ms Simone had me up and down to the counter a dozen or more times. the only time harold and myself were allowed to sit was when we were holding Their seats for Them to smoke or use the toilet.

and the place was full of kids!

it was about three-thirty when the Ladies decided they'd had enough and that we were to leave. harold and i trailed Them out to where their cars were parked and They said Their goodbyes.

harold held the door for his Mistress - and Ms Simone and i waved them off.

i walked Ms Simone back to Her car and She gave me a peck on the cheek from the driver's seat. She drove away and i walked back the way i'd come to the bus stop.

i had a quick nose round the Female Supremacy group when i got back here, but nothing jumped out at me.

look back in anger - david bowie

what a funny day! an almost-dispute with Her first thing this morning. our first.

all week, i've been bringing up the subject of elaine's party and every time, She's told me She'll get back to me on it.

i don't like being the one who keeps needling Her over the same old thing. it makes me feel pushy and bratty.

She was on the phone for almost an hour, insistent that She wouldn't/couldn't attend. which is fine. i'd never expect Her to feel obliged to accompany me anywhere. i just wished i'd had a bit longer to acclimatise myself to the way things were.

mibby i came across as a bit petulant and/or needy, but by the time She got off, there was an edge to Her voice. that edge people get when they sense a disparity between who they thought you were and who you actually are.

"sod it," i thought. "i'm not letting Her absence spoil tonight. although obviously, if i had a vote, i'd choose to spend the time with Her.

there's a very fine line between the healthy expression of a submissive nature and what glossy magazines call "co-dependency". for those of us who choose to wrap our lives around Someone Else's, that's a clear and present danger.

anyway, in Her absence, elaine's soiree is my primary focus. tam and Stella'll be there (should i be calling them "Stella and tam" now? i better ask...)

i have to say, i'm looking forward to this. with or without Her. it'll be good to see tam and Stella/Stella and tam again, make sure he's doing ok. from his texts, he's started the process of acclimatisation; learning to, if not love himself, at least put up with himself the way everybody else has to.

also, it's a couple of weeks since i saw elaine. and that hello magazine component to my dna is very curious about this huge secret she's keeping so close to her chest.

i had a look on the Female Supremacy group. sank a couple of coffees and marked one or two to reply to. i nosed around fetlife for a bit, looking at some of the groups on offer.

there's a Female Supremacy group, but it seems pretty quiet. i joined one on 24/7 relationships, just to see if i could pick up some pointers.

the phone rang. it was Her. (huge swell of orchestra) having changed Her mind, moved things around and decided to come after all.

which is the perfect cadence to this afternoon. a beautiful counterpoint to Her earlier refusal.

i'm meeting Her in a pub quite near elaine's at eight. it's a yuppie hangout, so it's suit 'n' sportsbag time.

it's kinda funny - josef k

no phonecall from Ms Simone last night, although i did wake up to a middle-of-the-night e-mail from Her.

she said She was still thinking about Stella and had e-mailed Her earlier.

the Female Supremacy group was quiet this morning, although there were a couple of replies to the introduction i'd posted, one from one of the guys i'd noticed and marked as smart and funny.

work was quiet-ish. that said, i'm aware i'm just getting used to the comments. which isn't healthy. i'm regarding it as a positive when the abuse doesn't escalate!

elaine's been texting all day. since this morning on the bus, in fact. the gist: she's heard about the tam/Stella revelations and is intent on wringing me for gossip.

the problem with text-flurries at work is that i have to hide or disguise both reading and replying. i'm not being paranoid when i assume these bastards would love to get something on me i could be reported for.

there's a level on which this is comedy. all this hate misdirected, like being born with an emmanuel goldstein birthmark.

it'd be cheering to think i was drawing the enemy fire, here in no man's land, that the twenty percent of my colleagues who are L.G.B or T are able to operate unmolested, but it never works like that, does it?

it would appear they're all going for a drink tonight. all the white, heterosexual, right-handed boy-scouts. everybody's talking about it, nobody's asking me.

which does have a certain warped logic to it, doesn't it? in a medieval sort of way. scapegoat driven from the city walls to bless the festival of the peasants.

new life - depeche mode

remember when you were a kid? remember being told by adults to "ignore them and when they don't get a reaction, they'll stop"?

it never worked, did it? Here's why.

small children and arseholes have the highest boredom-thresholds on earth. this is what happens when OCD meets after-shave.

work today was spent surrounded by these fools and their running commentary on my supposed sex-life.

funny, today's not been too hard on the nicotine front, either. if anything, throwing myself into the Female Supremacy group every morning before work is like a self-esteem injection before i leave the house!

oh, and i wrote a little of my personal/romantic history to post up to the group.

and these nightly chats with Her are really helping, too! no idea how long they'll last, but while She seems - and sounds - this pleased to hear from me every night, i'll make myself available to Her.

we only spoke for an hour last night. She was in a hurry to get somewhere, She said. still, in that hour, we worked through a number of points.

tam's still in my thoughts. ok, any pervert knows what it feels like to pass through one of these huge, life-changing self-alterations. not recognising yourself and having to grow to accept a new you.

but to go through all that all over again? the first time's bad enough - in the dark - but feeling it kick in again? knowing how long and how hard it's gonna be?

i think i communicated this to Ms Simone last night.

nothing from tam or Stella today, come to think of it. i hope they're ok.

secret's out - the box

there were more replies to my intro this morning - and a couple more when i got in from work tonight.

i haven't replied to any of them yet. i felt more like writing this first!

Ms Simone rang last night and we talked for about three hours. first time for ages, too - i've really missed it.

i told Her i'd joined the group harold had recommended and i was finding it valuable already. i told Her about the "passwords" thread and the various takes on the subject. She seemed pleased that i'd been studying the ins and outs of Female Supremacy.

we left it after the three hours. i don't know about Her, but i could've talked all night! listening to that voice, there's nothing i can't discuss with Her. no subject too blasphemous. before She rang off, She told me to keep tonight free, that She'd probably want a similar-length call this evening.

all day today, there was a lot of text message action. tam's messages kick-started my day about seven. i came out of the shower, the light on my phone was flashing. who else?

if anything, he's still looking for reassurance that our relationship's unaffected by saturday night's revelation. ok, from where i'm standing, why on earth would it, but then it's not me who jumped out of my comfort zone and then told the whole world about it.

so. tam-texts on and off all day. and, of course, from Stella, too. when Hers started, i had to put a brake on answering texts from either of them. the last thing i want is to end up being someone's fount of knowledge on Fem-Dom!

ok, there's a part of me that's flattered by them asking - and respecting - my thoughts on their situation, but an honour like that's a minefield. if not a full on poisoned chalice!

(you got me confused with) someone who cares - foetus

i posted up an introduction to the Female Supremacy group last night. i explained i'd been lurking since i joined, mostly to get a sense of how the group worked.

i gave my life-story (in edited highlights) and described my present situation in broad strokes.

i finished by stressing that i was brand new to the group and more than capable of typing with one or more feet in my mouth. i asked if, should i make some kind of horrible faux pas, would someone point out my error?

and, i posted a reply to the "passwords" query i'd read yesterday.

the replies started before i got up this morning! americans, up and about during our hours of darkness.

i think starting my day by plugging into Female Supremacist thinking set me up an optimistic mood before work. at the time, i hadn't even considered that. all i saw were replies to my intro - and a polite necessity to reply to each in turn.

i did so, enjoyed the bus to work and arrived completely unconcerned about the collection of imbeciles i was expected to work with.

anyway, they kept out of my way most of the day, which suited me fine. there were a couple of comments, but no more than water off a duck's back.

i even stayed late, just to show the pricks how unconcerned i was.

cold sweat - the sugarcubes

back to work this morning. walking in there, through the assembled smokers outside the front door, everything started to feel unreal. i kept getting glimpses of myself as an alien just arrived, seeing all this for the first time. making objective sense of what was before me.

addicts. sucking dirty smoke from burning leaves down paper tubes to shorten their pathetic lives. i found myself feeling sort of - detatched - apart from these people-creatures.

there was a comment or two, people mentioning homosexuality as if it was important to them... what kind of heterosexuals have boy-on-boy sex uppermost in their minds, day and night. i imagined them waking shrieking from dreams of male flesh into the cold-sweaty horror of their lonely beds.

then i put them out of my mind.

there was a post on the Female Supremacy group that caught my eye this morning. one of the males posted that his Mistress had asked him for all his passwords - from e-mail to e-bay. this was troubling him.

on the one hand, he had nothing to hide from Her, but that "reasonable" voice we all have hidden away in our heads was telling him to be careful.

the work i was doing wasn't exactly brain-intensive, so i just let my mind drift to this problem and tinker with it.

would i hand mine over to Her if She asked me? not like this, when i only see Her once or twice a week. but if i was living as Her 24/7... my thoughts dissolved into a montage of views around Her home, both from a standing and a kneeling perspective.

i suppose that's the cut-off point, isn't it. one of the commitments a male can make to his Owner.

which all comes down to picking the right Mistress, doesn't it? the One who'll respect you enough to accept that level of transparency to Her - and not abuse it.

i've had a few texts from tam on the subject of saturday. not an avalanche; but certainly enough to make it clear as day he's still not a hundred percent comfortable with this new identity he's trying on. or how cool those around him are with it.

one thing's for damn sure - he's fallen for Stella - hard - the way i have for Ms Simone. which can't be a bad thing. just as long as he can live with this new-born identity of his!

surprise surprise - cop shoot cop

just when you think you've heard everything and seen it all, life can still dredge up the goods to slap you in the face.

i'd got ready with hours to spare, texted everyone (apart from tam, obviously!) to pass on my progress reports. i checked my yahoo! e-mail, there were three or four threads on the Female Supremacy group that i felt i could probably contribute to.

i'm noticing the same names coming up over and over. there's a couple who're in (or claim to be in) twenty-four/seven/three-sixty-five Female-led relationships. there's another couple who're single, but know exactly what they want in a Domme/Mistress/Owner if they ever find Her.

there are four or five in relationships, trying to find their feet and build that perfect marriage. which is where i fit in, i suppose.

i left the house about seven and i had a pint in my hand by eight. i'd texted stella just before i got off the bus. now we were spread around three-or-four tables, waiting for her to text one of us that it was time to head to the dungeon. the bar staff and regulars eyed us and our bags like they'd just uncovered 9/11 - an hour before take-off - and none of them had a clue what to do.

the tension was starting to get to me. the tobacco-need kept coming up. every time somebody mentioned going for a fag, every time either door opened, i wanted to join in and smoke too. it was all i could do not to ask one of them for a cigarette and the fag-machine seemed to be staring me out.

i was determined not to give in, though. determined to stop. for good. again.

at about the eight-forty mark, a guy i'd never seen before stood up, took out his phone, thumbed it and read from it.

"the eagle has landed. repeat - the eagle has landed." a scraping of chairs as we got to our feet, down the tail ends of our drinks, picked up our bags. and (i noticed) several fumbled for cigarettes and/or lighters.

a quick glance at the bar staff showed they were coiled, ready to spring if any of us made a move for them. as we shuffle-scrambled for the door, the doorman took a step back and i saw his hand curl round something in his pocket.

outside, the tension started to dissapate as we burst from the pub doorway and scattered across the road. a couple of people knew where we were headed and the rest of us straggled behind them.

round the corner and somebody, a john or ian pressed the top button on a sleek silver intercom system. a woman's voice creaked a "yes?"

"tam fennwick’s guests?" he asked her back and the buzzer sounded. we pressed in.

the stairs were polished, the landings carpetted. we swarmed up the stairs like laden ants, some in pairs, some in single file.

three wide flights up and most of us were breathing slightly louder, red faced but still pushing upward.

we got to the top landing and - have you ever heard a dozen people all suddenly trying to be quiet at once? the middle door, a solid and heavy-looking barrier, opened and stella stood there.

she had a finger across her lips and her eyes were wide and blazing. she looked ready to execute the next person who made a sound. she held the door open and we troop-tip-toed through, ducking under her arm.

inside, we hit thick, silent carpet and i followed the guy in front of me up a wide stairway and into a pale mauve and aluminum changing area.

grey school chairs round the walls and a couple of sinks. massive mirrors covered most of the walls from waist to ceiling.

it must've been the sudden change in atmosphere from outside to inside, but we were all whisper-chattering, our voices a murmer of static.

even people i didn't know. those who, in the pub, hid behind the veil of don't-touch-me aloofness. out of the blue, we were all comrades.

those finished first waited for the rest of us. i struggled into my leather jeans and zipped them up. turning i helped a guy i'd never seen before lace up his Domme's boots. there was an incredible feeling of all being in it together. organised cells making up one great organism.

when we we'd achieved that moment where critical mass was equal to boiling point, a silence filled the room. one of tam's wee trannies looked round the room and opened the door. i followed it and held it for a tall, skeletal woman i'd never seen before.

we were half way down the stairs, creeping and tip-toeing like sneaking cartoon characters when stella appeared from a heavy door.

she motioned us to silence and we all stopped dead as she crossed the hallway and stopped at the front door to peep through the spy-hole before opening it quickly, a finger crossing her lips.

She entered - oh, fuck it, i may as well use Her name Here. Ms Simone - my Mistress - moved silently onto the hall carpet, already doing that thing where She makes everybody else look shabby and half-worked-out by comparison.

She gives me tiniest wave and i smile back at Her. stella points to, then heads through, a door which she holds open for Ms Simone to follow her through. we move down the stairs as quietly as we can.

i realise i've been holding my breath.

across the hall and through the open door. the room is a pale greyish green. the only light-source the cones of shifting light that emerge from the large tv screens that dominate either end of the room. we spread out in a wide arc between them, a spanking bench like an altar before us. music plays, unobtrusively. something low, murmering brass.

i move beside Ms Simone and She raises Her hand for me to kiss it. She smiles.

there's a change in the light as stella passes through the tvs' light. people are moving back to let her pass and it strikes me that tam must be somewhere around.

she goes around and behind the bench and i notice people crowding behind her

Ms Simone takes my hand and we become part of this crowd, pressing forward, still trying to see.

there's a movement i don't understand and stella is leaning over the bench. Her arms detatch themselves from whatever they were doing and she stands up.

the lights come on and i close my eyes instinctively as others raise hands to protect their faces.

my eyes start to adjust.

someone - is lying over the bench. it lifts a blindfolded head as if to look around. Ms Simone squeezing my hand. when i turn to Her, She is watching intently.

a shadow passes in front of the tied person and steps away. stella holding the sub's blindfold and dancing away with it.

the music has changed. "happy birthday" by altered images. the sub raises its head again and if there had been a bit more light, tam's eyes would have met mine.

stop.

rewind.

everything shifts like a shaken iphone.

tam. cuffed to - a woman giggles, which cuts out suddenly.

stella walks around him. her fingers tracing down his spine. tam is stil blinking, while looking around the room, like he's taking us all in, a fragment at a time. i turn.

"Ms Simone?"

She turns to me. "yes?"

"i'm about to fall off the wagon. may i please have a cigarette?"

she nodded. "after this, though."

outside, She handed me the packet and Her lighter. i lit a cigarette and passed it to Her. She motioned that i was to have one, too. i thanked Her and sucked it down into my lungs.

"you weren't expecting that, i assume?" She said.

the smoke burned my throat lightly as i shook my head no.

"if this is the new him, he's going to need a lot of support as he changes shape." i nodded, She continued. "and that can't all come from Her – what’s Her name? you know that."

i nod again, exhaling. “Stella, Ms Simone.”

She was right, though. tam must be going through massive alterations in who he is; and me? all i'm concentrating on is how shocked i am!

obviously, i'll be there for him. same as he would if the other foot was booted.

the door opened and Stella came out, followed by tam. to look at them, they hadn't changed – and they hadn't - this must've happened weeks ago.

in fact, the only thing that'd changed was the perception of those around them.

Ms Simone broke the silence.

"I think what you're doing is entirely courageous." She told them both. i nodded, noticing that tam was doing the same.

we stayed a few more hours, i didn't get a chance to talk to tam on his own, but Ms Simone introduced me to a couple of Her friends; i introduced Her to a couple of tam's wee flock of trannies.

when it came time for us to leave, Ms Simone led me to the front door, where Stella was having a cigarette, chatting to a white-haired guy. tam stood, a foot or so behind Her, as if forgotten about.

the Ladies exchanged a few words, ignoring myself and tam. Stella introduced Ms Simone to the white-haired guy, whose name was gary or barry, something like that. tam and myself were excluded completely.

when they'd finished chatting, i was permitted to make my goodnights while Ms Simone waited. as i walked Her to Her car, She was silent. as if thinking something through.

when She spoke, She stopped, turned to face me.

the next thing i knew, i was nodding, thanking Her, both of us smiling. then i was in Her car, She was blindfolding me and we were moving. i still couldn't believe this was really happening!

Ms Simone's lair, when we got there, wasn't some sadean fantasy dungeon in the bowels of an isolated castle. it was a nondescript third-floor flat on the outskirts of town, near a shopping mall that'd sprung up in the last few years.

She opened the front door and leaned in to switch on a light. blank, anonymous doors on either side of a thin staircase. to the right of that, a small pile of shoes, jumbled. forgotten magazines peeped out from the shoes and a couple of mobile phone chargers lay tangled on top.

"you can sort those out," She said, pointing. Her finger trailed past the staircase and stopped at the first door. "but first, i want coffee."

and that was it. She shoo-ed me into the kitchen and i had to figure it out from there. the kettle was pretty easy to find and i already knew She didn't take sugar; the rest was just rooting through cupboards.

and playing hunt-the-fridge. god, i hate these minimal fitted kitchens! it's like they were designed to replicate bygone days before electricity ruled the earth.

i sat at Her feet while She drank Her coffee, channel-hopped and surfed the phone-web. occasionally, She'd share something humourous or ask if i knew a specific person off (i think) ic.

She hadn't said anything for a while, so i hadn't either.

i looked up as She clicked the television off.

She pointed at the floor at Her feet.

"you may sleep Here. i'll throw a duvet down in a sec."

"thank You, Ms Simone."

"use the pink toothbrush on the sink. you're quite privileged - it's My old one." and with that, She was off, through the door and away.

a heard the sounds of ablutions and footsteps going upstairs. a minute or so later, there was a soft -whump- and She called something out. i scrambled to my feet and out into the hall.

"I asked," She spoke softly. "could you set an alarm, please?"

i nodded.

"I'd like my breakfast at nine-thirty, as near as." She ticked off on Her fingers. "toast; two pieces. just as it comes out of the toaster. butter it and I'll decide what kind of jam I want when you bring it."

i nodded again.

"coffee. I like it a little stronger in the mornings. use the stuff in the jar with the red lid; top shelf of the fridge."

"yes, Ms Simone."

there should be grapefruit juice in the fridge. if there's less than half a carton, put another in there. I like a pint-glass, filled to the top. and ice cold." She turned. "nine-thirty, then. night, slave." and She was gone.

it's weird how things just suddenly explode, isn't it? i'm sitting at home, writing this on my laptop.

i went out last night after tea, fully expecting to be home by about one. mind you, i wasn't exactly expecting tam and Stella's birthday bombshell, either!

i could hardly sleep for excitement, lying along Her living room floor, where Her feet had been until recently.

i turned Her voice over in my head. the way She'd said it - She called me "slave"! even now, i can remember standing at Her sink, cleaning my teeth with the toothbrush She'd only just used and discarded. She called me "slave"! it kept going off in my head, over and over, like a paper-soft explosion.

and the reverberations are still hitting me now, twenty-four hours later.

i still can't believe all this.

it's like a dream; or like a film that makes no sense till you get that one last vital fact out of the blue in the final reel.

shit, it's gone quarter-past-two. i better get some shut-eye. doesn't feel like i'm going to get a whole lot of sleep, though.