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.

birthday - the jesus and mary chain

i didn't realise what a relief it would be until i got to the munch and the Ex wasn't there! honestly, it hadn't crossed my mind. walked in the door and it struck me - She could be there.

but no.

thankfully.

all the usual suspects were there. including Eddie's ex slave. we communicate politely, but sparingly these days. when we absolutely have to.

stella showed up, took us outside, gave us our instructions like Dame Judy Dench in some james bond situation.

a couple of urges-to-smoke, but nothing to blowtorch my family over. the feeling would come up, i'd acknowledge it and let it go.

hopefully this will continue tonight. i'm looking forward to this. it's somewhere i haven't been before, although according to those who have, the facilities aren't too bad.

and considering the personalities planning to be present, it has all the hallmarks of a good night.

i can't wait to see tam's face!

birthday - sugarcubes

i texted tam a couple of minutes after midnight to wish him a happy one. i gave it about an hour, then switched my phone off before getting into bed. and sure enough, when i turned it back on, he'd texted me back - at four-thirty!

i wonder how many victims he'd got with that one this year? stella for one, i'd bet - she's far too new to his carry on!

it was about half-ten and it seemed churlish in the extreme to hit him back with a text when he'd be sleeping, so i got ready for the lunch munch.

stella's been sending out e-mails like she has shares in microsoft for the last day or two. she's planning tonight like a military operation. all players are to assemble at this afternoon's munch for our final instructions.

this is where we find out we're to become suicide-bombers.

my spine (is the bass line) - shriekback

this Female Supremacy group is an excellent find. there are some superb thinkers in there!

already, i'm spotting the ones to watch. the ones i agree with. of course, being an internet-based group, much of what's posted to the group is completely impenetrable!

but, apart from those, there are several whose posts are to-the-point, focused and occasionally very funny.

i must thank harold if i see him. and if he recognises me this time. maybe i should thank Mistress Rose - after all, it apears She does all the thinking in their relationship.

harold must be on some seriously heavy medication to lose his memory like that. the funny thing is, he appears 100% compos mentis at the same time. as if he's had parts of his memory wiped.

i wonder how that affects his ability to perform as a slave?

the cancer-sticks haven't been bothering me quite so much today. the urge is still there, just not in screaming red capitals.

with it kicking in so hard at the munch and continuing through most of yesterday, getting a day off's a bonus. plus, it gives me a chance to think about the issues surrounding my Ex.

it's funny Her showing up just as i get into another relationship. perfect timing for me to start weighing up this relationship against that one.

at the end of any relationship, i tend to take stock. decide what i'll never put up with again. as well as, what i'll expect in any relationship from now on. the base line, if you will.

when i was with the Ex, i thought it was happy ever after, i really did. from the word go, it felt like we had so much in common - both for Her and for me.

which all sounds suspiciously like my present arrangement, doesn't it? but then, once you're past thirty, any relationship is going to remind you of at least some of the others.

walk on by - the stranglers

this Female Supremacy group's not too bad. very little testosterone-driven idiocy, which is pretty good for any bdsm group. too often these things are the work of HNGs, fantasies penned by men-without-Girlfriends with one hand rummaging in their laps.

i haven't posted there yet. but on the strength of what i'm reading, i imagine i'll fit in pretty well!

best case scenario? i can learn here as well as teach.

that was the good bit.

last night's munch was an eye-opener. the Ex turned up! which isn't exactly rocket-surgery, is it? a town this size with only a couple of munches, it was only a matter of time.

i saw Her, She saw me. polite and subtle respective nods. after that, She stayed with Her friends and i did the same with mine.

it made me really want a fag, though! the urge-to-smoke kept cropping up - it must have been every fifteen, twenty minutes or so after that.

i suppose i'm going to get that, though. life's little stresses will make the nicotine-demands crawl out and right up into my face.

tam figured out what was happening and he and stella kept bringing me back when i started to go into the what-ifs.

and this morning, back to the queer-baiting arena. it's been good, having a couple of days away from the nonsense, but coming back to it, there's no sense of having had a break. just of having weakened a little in not having had to fight it in the last few days.

dandy in the underworld - t-rex

elaine texted me this morning, to ask if i'd invite tam to her do. i replied, explaining that tam was half of a couple now and was it ok to invite them both?

the protocol's such a hassle sometimes. never knowing who's talking to whom - and who isn't.

when Eddie & Sheena broke up, just going out was a minefield. you never knew who to talk to - or who was watching. or how each would affect the story when they told their version!

i texted tam about it at lunchtime. he'd definitely be up and about by then. again, i'd plumped for the latest lunch possible. i grabbed a gregg's and ate it on the way to the market.

there, i had a look through Mistress HoneyBunny's stall. does anybody else get that? the sudden urge to buy something to wear, i mean?

it can lie dormant for weeks or months, not even cross your mind, then voom! that undeniable feeling that new clothes are called for.

possibly, it's been triggered by my working downstairs for the last couple of days. try as i might, i have felt kind of dirty on my way home each night. a small price to pay to avoid those scum i'm meant to call my colleagues, though.

mid-afternoon, i got an e-mail from stella. of course it was fine to bring "Someone" to tam's birthday surprise - and it wasn't going to be in her flat, either. she'd got a loan of a dungeon in town. so i definitely need something to wear now!

i left about five. came home, chucked my clothes in the wash and hopped in the shower. i'd forgotten to turn any music on - i didn't even realise until i was already under it, eyes closed.

i scrubbed all the filth of the underworld off me, washed my hair through twice and turned the shower off. one good thing about a scottish summer. it's warm when you climb out the shower - even if it is only for a couple of weeks a year.

underground - tom waits

i came home to an e-mail from that Female Supremacy group - i'm in. i'm not going to post anything for the time being, just read what the existing members are posting. get a feel for the lie of the land before i open my mouth. lurk, if you like.

work was quieter today. i spent the day in the bowels of the earth. my original plan had been to buy a day and a half down Here, but judging by the chaos 'n' carnage, i could easily add another day onto that.

i got a text from elaine early afternoon. she's having a party on saturday the third. i replied, asked if i could "bring Someone".

it's weird, being in a couple again after so long. the extra variables to be negotiated when something's suggested to me. still, being down here means i don't have to hide what i'm doing when i receive - or send - a text. longer, more considered answers.

in fact, the only thing missing is Her. these next couple of days will be perfect for a veritable text-wimbledon! not a peep from Her, though.

three days now without a fag and i'm starting to get used to that withdrawing feeling. starting to respond to it, not by wanting to smoke, but by not wanting to. if anything, it's making me more determined.

this party of stella's will be the crunch. she smokes, so presumably, there'll be ashtrays scattered around her flat.

i found seven of the files within the first hour this morning. added to the three i found yesterday, this makes a healthy pile. by lunchtime, i'd not only found the lot, but hidden two of them to give me an excuse for staying down here half the week!

queer - garbage

i came in this morning to find a bottle of poppers on my desk. i noticed them, froze and ignored them, flipping some papers on top of them.

i haven't had poppers in a donkey's age - this might not be the moment, though. it's bad enough it being monday, without this shit piled onto it, too.

if anything though, it's getting easier not to smoke again. which is reasonable. apart from friday's slip-up, that's me almost at the two week point. when you can get through that, you can do it. the next big hump is two years, i think. it was for me last time, anyway.

elaine has been texting all day. there are hints, but nothing concrete. i'm starting to think it's Someone i know, that's why she's not telling me.

it's funny, playing text-tennis with two people at once. elaine's texts are playful, sparkling with half-glimpsed hints. Hers are, i notice, increasingly more authoritative, more dominant, i suppose. with the two of them leap-frogging like this, each throws the other's messages and delivery into a sharper contrast.

i left lunch as late as i could, managed to avoid all these arseholes.

just before i left for lunch, i overheard one of the supervisors talking about sending someone down to the catacombs to try to locate some older files. so i spoke to him about it.

he seemed pretty surprised that anyone would actually volunteer for something he thought he'd need to press-gang someone into, but agreed.

so, after lunch, i reported to him and collected the list of files i was to track down from the moist and smelly darkness down there.

i spent the afternoon down there, my text messages a lot longer and more involved than my usual office hours' communication.

i carried on working until about six, even though i'd decided to leave at four thirty.

i felt a bit grubby, being down there all afternoon, so i dived into the shower.

then i came on here.

happy birthday - altered images

stella'd added me as a friend on fetlife, i noticed this morning. and left me a message. it was concerning tam's birthday. i'd forgotten all about it. and it was saturday!

she was thinking about a do at Her place. just a few people - and it was to be a surprise - tam wasn't to know.

i messaged her back. just to find out what kind of surprise. scene people? friends? family?

and, could i bring Someone? i didn't mention any names, but it would have been obvious Who i meant.

the nicotine withdrawal's hitting me at random times. i'd have expected it after food, when drinking, as i'm leaving somewhere to go outdoors, but no.

i was on my second cup of coffee, just thinking about toast, when i noticed a new memo on ic.

it was Her, enquiring whether i'd remembered i was Hers for the afternoon. i replied at once - in the affirmative. and waited for Her to get back to me.

found another memo a few moments later. not Her but harold, inviting me to join a Female Supremacy group for males. i opened a fresh tab and signed up right away.

i always hate these boxes where you have to explain to the group's owners why you feel you should be allowed to join. i realise this weeds out the wankers (both literal and figurative) but i always feel like i'm being expected to justify myself.

i gave them a couple of lines on how i've been a sub for years and my new relationship seems to be pointing towards it being a Female-Led one.

as an afterthought, i said that i'd been invited by an existing member.

i met Her in town in a café i hadn't been aware of. She sent the directions to my phone along with what She wanted to drink when She arrived.

i ordered myself a second americano as She sipped Her earl grey. today wouldn't be as whistle-stop as last week, She told me.

She seemed in a positive sort of mood, so i brought up the subject of tam's birthday and asked whether i might be able to buy something for him if i spotted it.

silence. She shook Her head no. "not on My time," She said. but if you do see anything suitable, you can always come back tomorrow.

so we had our lunch. there were half a dozen different vegetarian possibilities on the menu, each with its own, unique excuse why i couldn't have any. She had something vaguely spanish-sounding, with shreds of light and dark meat in a tomato sauce, while i had more coffee.

i have to admit, sitting drinking coffee while She ate, i started feeling the cigarette-urge. i glanced at the clock. three minutes past. the symptoms of nicotine withdrawal cannot last more than the length of time it takes to smoke a cigarette. i can tough this out.

she said something, we began talking and i lost myself in that. the biting need to smoke passed. i felt the colour seeping back into the world.

when She'd finished eating, i was sent to fetch Her a coffee and i got a tea for myself. i'd had three coffees already and felt a bit caffeined out. She went for a cigarette while it cooled, leaving me at the table, wrestling with my own nicotine-need.

the shops were less crowded than last sunday, if anything. or it may have been i wasn't running hell-for-leather, trying to keep up with Her. we did half-a-dozen shops; clothes and shoes for the most part, but we spent thirty or forty minutes around harvey nichols' make-up.

i hadn't set foot in the place before, so it was interesting on that level.

and then it was over. we were at Her car, i was loading the bags into the boot and, after i closed it, She gave me a peck on the cheek and drove away.

i waited ages on a bus, it being sunday and all.

do the strand - roxy music

fuck! i can't believe i actually smoked last night. christ knows how many - five, six... no wonder i felt sick.

i hopped the train through. tam had said he'd give me a lift back if i met them there. it doesn't matter how many times i do this. i always worry that i'm going to be stranded.

i remember a Domme Friend arranging to meet me at a munch an hour-and-a-half away by bus. this was about five, six years ago. i finished work, hopped on the single-decker of suffering and whizzed through towns i thought only existed in the work of harry lauder!

eventually, city! shops! w.h.smith's, woolworth's, boots the chemist, pizza hut - civilisation, in other words.

i found the munch pretty quickly - no sign of my Domme Friend! i asked around and it turned out She was reknowned for turning up around the ten-mark and staying til one.

but my adrenaline didn't drop until my Friend had not only arrived, but assured me that i had a seat in Her car for the trip home!

same sort of trepidation last night. got there when it was still quiet. looked around. no sign of mr & mrs tam-the-ham. i got a coffee, followed by a seat. too many variables to start drinking this early.

i was on my second cup of coffee when i spotted harold at the bar. i waved, but he appeared not to notice me. i cast around until i spotted his Mistress. She waved over and said something to harold.

they came across and She sat down. She introduced us, which i thought was strange. harold and i shook hands.

"can we get you anything from the bar?" She asked.

"i'll have another coffee, if that's ok?"

She nodded. "you're not an alcoholic, are you?" She asked. i looked at Her, surprised by the question. "it's just that i wouldn't want him drinking in front of you if you're still fighting with it."

i assured them that i wasn't, to the best of my knowledge and She packed him off to the bar.

Rose has quite a forceful way of expressing most things. if anything, She was making me nervous - not in a sexual/predatory sort of way, but Her approach to my entire gender made feelings of respect come up. i saw stella come in, followed by tam and immediately had this gut feeling something was wrong with the night. sharp words and bloodshed wrong.

"isn't that your friends?" She asked and i nodded. i felt myself fill up with an overwhelming sense of despair. an image flashed by my inner eye. me, impaled on a massive pin through my stomach and exiting my back. waving my limbs in agony, screaming. nothing whatsoever coming out. pinned to a card in a dusty museum for generations of giant Women and Girls to glance at.

the light changed as tam and stella blotted it out. i pushed the thought away and greeted them as casually as i could.

harold returned with the drinks and tam nipped off to the bar. i introduced stella to harold and Rose.

"they were at the munch." Rose explained to harold. "last wednesday." harold started to nod. the silence spread out around us. tam seemed to have been gone ages and stella kept flicking glances at his back at the bar.

she took Her cigarettes from Her bag and stood up. i did the same.

"could i..?" she nodded and we practically sprinted for the stairs.

outside, i drew the smoke down into my lungs as she said, "i didn't think you smoked."

fifteen minutes after that, i nipped out and bought twenty silk cut. so much for me giving up.

still, considering the week i've had at work, falling back into an old addiction's hardly a massive surprise, is it?

Rose and harold drifted away when we got back. i saw glimpses of them, from time to time, She thrashing him in the play area, him trotting back from the bar with drinks, or sitting alone. Her skipping down the stairs into the smoking area.

it wasn't a bad night, by any stretch of the imagination. tam, after he got off his nicotine-high horse, was on pretty good form. and i'm starting to quite like the stella one, too. she seemed to know every second person there, which isn't always a good sign, of course.

tam started getting itchy feet around midnight and, to be honest, i wasn't wild about staying any longer either.

in the car back, tam gave out the occasional short tale, but for the most part, we drove in complete silence, broken only by the shite on the radio.

they dropped me off across the road from my flat and waited to make sure i was in before pulling away. i waved from the kitchen window and stella waved back.

i clicked on the pc and saw i had a friend request on ic. from harold. about three hours ago!

curiouser and curiouser.

harry - dead fingers talk

a number of comments passed today. terms like "poof" and "knob jockey" being bandied around.

and then i suddenly got it. there were mentions of the boozer the munch was held in. more than one. word had got out - someone must have seen me there.

at first, i'd thought i was being oversensitive, but when it continued into late morning, i was trying not to get rattled. when nobody actually asks you, there's no way of getting the truth out.

funnily enough, at lunchtime, i had to fight the urge to buy fags. and how are you supposed to counter these allegations, anyway? "i'm not a poof, i'm a pervert"?

if they're up in arms over the idea that i want vanilla sex with someone, what would they do if they knew the truth?

it's been really difficult, fighting the urge, to smoke. all day, i've been thinking about cigarettes. while nicotine withdrawal can't last longer than it takes to smoke a fag, those five minutes crawl by. slow as cancer, every time.

i kept my head above water, though. when it got bad, i held onto the idea that i was going out tonight.

i've to make my own way to this club tonight. tam's giving me a lift back - tam and stella it is now, i suppose. i've to meet them there. no idea if She'll make an appearance.

i left work dead on four-thirty, which i don't usually do. i can't stand the place right at this minute. gave my tormentors long enough to fuck off to the pub, then walked down the hill to the shops. i admit it. i didn't want to walk past the pub in case any of them were outside, smoking.

to hell with it! it's friday night. i'm going to shower, stick some music on and get up to the bus station.

love's unkind - donna summer

the munch last night was better than good. far better. She was there, which lit the whole place up brighter than a thousand suns.

i spent the majority of the night standing slightly behind Her as She mingled and chatted. one exception to this was when one of Her Friends, a Domme i half-recognise from the clubs, started speaking, stopped Herself. Both seemed hesitant to continue in front of me.

so i was packed off to the bar and, on my return, sent to talk to tam and stella.

they seem perfectly happy with their situation as it's unfolding. but then, if he can put up with her edge of brattiness and she can accept his "this one time, in my cab" stories, then it's a marriage made in heaven.

i wonder how she'll get along with his wee congregation of trannies, though? tam loves being the queen bee and i can't see him letting go of that.

anyway, mr & mrs tam were all loved up. finishing each other's sentences and everything. i must have been talking to them fifteen, twenty minutes when there was a tap on my shoulder. i turned around and one of the free-range subs was standing there.

"She requires you." that was all he said and i glanced over. She was staring over at me. Her face told me nothing. i turned back to tam and stella and started to say something.

"s'ok, pal." tam said quietly. "same disease as me - i can see that." he smiled, squeezing stella's hand quickly.

i returned to Her side and She introduced me to the couple She was talking to. obviously She was the Domme, i thought as we all made o/our hellos.

turned out i was right. we males were packed off to a table, while the Ladies went outside to smoke.

harold, his name was. and he opened up a lot when his owner was out of earshot. not in a disrespectful way, it's just that when She was present, his focus was one hundred percent on Her. they'd been together three years, he told me. through thick and thin.

the Ladies arrived back and the whole atmosphere round our table changed. harold fell silent and i felt my mouth dry up. She and Mistress Rose had a mischevious, Girlish aura around them, almost giggly.

and that's how the evening progressed. harold and i sitting opposite Them, while They dominated the conversation. from time to time, one or other of us would be sent to the bar for Them. or They'd go outside to smoke.

it must have been around midnight when She told me to give harold my ic & fetlife names and head home. and to keep sunday free.

i made my excuses and left, as they say.

show of strength - echo & the bunnymen

i'm quite looking forward to the munch tonight. more so than usual, i guess. She's going, tam and stella, even elaine - who's definitely got something going on. it feels like being a posse.

the not smoking's going well today. i've hardly been troubled in the slightest. and, best of all, when i passed the smokers at the main door this morning, they wouldn't even look at me! And that’s after a week!

i've never felt so great about being excluded from a gang in my life!

oh and i probably won big at credibility-roulette, too. as if me weakening and succumbing to an old addiction for the couple of weeks it took me to get off was a show of strength.

my supervisor's definitely noticed - but then, that's his job. if anything, any gossip about me is probably around me beating the fags now - rather than my supposed homosexuality! ideally, anyway.

i've had to field a lot of texts this morning. to the point where i did the unthinkable. i opened a browser tab and went into the cut-down messenger.

i explained to tam, elaine and Her that i was at work and to expect delays in my answering. everybody seemed fine with that.

so i fielded their queries, focusing on - guess who?

i was only on for about an hour. and i wouldn't dream of making a habit of it, but it worked. very few texts this afternoon, which i was grateful for.

anyway, that's me pretty much dry. so it's off a-munching i go!

open up and bleed - the stooges

elaine has a touch of angst. her texts have a definite - and different - feel to them. something's happened, it feels like. still, she's not talking about it, so i'll wait til she feels a bit more chatty.

ok, a friend isn't going to pry, but i will be there when she does decide to open up and bleed. or not.

after all, that's precisely what our relationship's based on. or should be. mutual crying-shoulders (when necessary). platonic companions at all other times. like being each other's "gay best friend".

i have to admit though, i'm fairly curious about this new Mr Right she's landed. elaine's usually quite reticent about hurling herself into things - like a lot of people who actually like themselves!

another smoke-free day without a care in the world - or a cloud in the sky. i strolled past the smokers outside the main door, ignoring them ignoring me. as i arrived, at lunchtime and as i left. this must be how butterflies feel as they look down on all the caterpillars they used to be.

did i mention that i got a long e-mail from Her late last night? included was a transcript of a chat between Her and a Domme friend. about my training needs!

oh, the rush of mixed emotions that dredged up for me! on the one hand, excitement - this Gorgeous Woman is talking about training me to serve Her. discussing it with another Woman. as fantasies go, this one's pretty good!

then factor in that this is truly, actually happening. to me! and it's an amazing headrush!

the not knowing - tindersticks

silence. not a word from Her. i've not heard a thing since yesterday. i think i'm getting the withdrawals.

because i know so little about Her, my mind tries to weave whole tapestries out of a throwaway word or gesture. when She mentions someone on the scene, i imagine they're former lovers, or even, present-day ones.

that's not something that causes me undue pain. it's more the not knowing. because i know so little about Her, it's hard to hold onto the tiny fragments of Her i do have without my mind trying to fill in the blanks. especially during these breaks in communication.

tam, on the other hand, has been texting all day. since about eleven. so presumably, stella must've stayed last night. ah, young love - it does my heart good!

sarcasm aside, She seems ok (if a bit of a bratz doll!) he could do a lot worse – as he in fact, has, in the past.

but, the bottom line has to be, they both seem happy. i don't know Her well enough to measure Her happiness, but he's like a pig in shit.

it can't be easy for a dominant male tv to find any partner, let alone one that he's actually happy with!

the post-smoking is going pretty well today. a couple of twinges, nothing more. i must be pretty much through it by now. four days and counting.

out - doctors of madness

last night was quite a test. saturday night, crowded pubs and tam's new friend stella is a smoker. which led to her going for several cigarettes during the course of the night. which of course, led to tam enquiring why i wasn't. while i white-knuckled the edge of the table.

i gritted my teeth and smiled, rather than plunge my glass into his neck. it was the first time i'd met stella - and you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

a major problem with stopping smoking is the not knowing what to do with your hands. in the house, my first impulse is to pick at food - crisps, sweets, chocolates. in the pub, it makes me drink faster. without those trips outside to punctuate the drinking, they go down faster than usual. and hit harder than usual.

still, i didn't weaken. i was tempted, but remained firm and unyielding. even when she offered me one. both times, in fact.

you know those subbie-girls you always meet who're really cheeky and bratty? the ones that're always pushing their Dom/me for the sake of being punished..? that's what she was like - one of them. but it didn't just stop at tam - oh no. she was rude, flippant, offhand with everybody. from the woman who came round selling the left wing newspapers to me. she was sarcastic, lippy and begging for attention. And very, very funny. Infectiously so. I liked her from the off.

and tam seems smitten. good for him.

he's been on his own for a couple of years, longer than that. three or four. when i met him, he was just splitting up with - what was her name?

tell the truth, i thought they were a pair of arseholes on first meeting. they turned up at one of Eddie & Sheena's parties. i think i mentioned Them a few days back.

at first glance, tam was this neurotic, really queeny Dom. he even had the moustache in those days. and the poncey wee uber-waistcoat. and the bob the builder utility belt. her, i didn't pay a lot of attention to, really.

both rabid anti-smokers, though. they got all politically correct at someone for mentioning bill hicks. talk about right on!

it's funny, thinking about tam as he used to be!

so, anyway. this stella seems all right. in small doses, anyway. tam invited me back to his. in the sort of tone-of-voice that says clearly, fucking don't say yes. i hopped in a taxi and was home for midnight.

i woke up about eight. with somebody else's hangover. this happens from time to time. i go out, have two, three pints and wake up the next day at death's door.

i wasn't going back to sleep, so i drank tea until i could face my first coffee of the day. lay in the dark, waiting for it to pass. around ten-thirty, my phone buzzed from my pocket. i left it, partly because i felt rough, but mostly because i thought it was tam, demanding my report on stella.

it was just gone eleven when i consulted the phone and discovered that the text was from Her!

i texted Her back at once, feigning a long lie and enquiring how She'd slept.

Her next text surprised me. it was the name of a pub by the waterfront. and a time - one thirty. an invite to lunch!

i shaved under the shower and climbed into some fresh clothes (without worrying too much about what She'd prefer me dressed up in)...

i scrambled for the ten-to-twelve bus, (which showed almost on time) and was uptown for half twelve. guaranteed, if i'd gone for the twenty past bus, i'd have had a no show!

i killed time in a couple of shops, (picked up the dvd of "born to boogie" for eight quid!) and was in the right pub, at the bar, scanning round the tables by one-fifteen.

She arrived around twenty-five past, in a severe suit that made everybody else in the bar look shabby by comparison.

on the downside, i started to feel badly underdressed, too. i got to my feet, pushed it away and waved to Her. smiling, She approached the table and i leapt to hold Her chair out for Her.

over lunch, She detailed Her itinerary. there would be shopping, my opinion would be asked for on specific items and at all other times, i was to keep my mouth shut.

we finished eating. She left me at the table and strolled outside for a cigarette. on Her return, She pointed at the long counter and mouthed the word "americano". we passed as i scrambled for the counter.

it took an age. when i glanced round, She had Her back to me. She looked relaxed, Her shoulders drooping slightly.

we drank our coffees mostly in silence. when She was ready, She took out a cigarette from the pack on the table and slipped the pack into Her bag.

outside, She lit it with a purple clipper and turned to me.

"i think you deserve one, don't you?" i stammered out that i'd stopped and She turned to look directly into my face.

there was a long moment. She blew smoke into my face.

"how long?"

"that's three days." i told Her and She nodded.

after a moment or two, She turned and walked on.

the first place we stopped at was a shoe shop. one of those three floors of basically the same half dozen or so examples of footwear, minute variations in every imaginable size and colour.

and She was like a kid in a candy-shop. rushing from aisle to aisle, Her eyes alight from the inside out, Her breath rushed and ragged. i don't know how long we stayed there.

at the register, She paid in cash. i reached in and lifted the bag containing the box containing whatever it was She'd bought. they weren't heavy anyway and i followed Her back through the shop, where She paused no more than twice to examine things She hadn't bought.

outside, She was smiling and i may have imagined it, but She seemed slightly flushed in Her face and neck.

Her lips pecked me on the cheek and She was pointing across the road, mouthing something and She was off, zig-zagging through the traffic that crawled into and out of the city centre.

my afternoon slid by in a blur. shops, more bags to carry and every time, She paid in cash.

i tried to monitor the passage of time as we passed through a thousand of these emporia, through an ocean of office workers burning up their two-day passes. clocks' faces sliding inexorably towards five. curtains. game over, player two.

soon, we were turned away from somewhere selling even more of the same shoes and She glanced quickly at Her watch. She turned, took a step towards me and whispered something i didn't quite catch, but on reflection, sounded a bit like "you follow me." i moved through the crowds in Her wake, trying to keep up with Her at Her unladen speed.

Her car was parked on a side-street. She beeped the locks as we approached and i changed direction slightly towards the lights that had just flashed.

i wasn't sorry to drop Her hundredweight of fripperies into the boot and start flexing the feeling back into my fingers.

she put an arm around my shoulders. "you're a good boy," She said.

my reward was a meal in a pub nearby. She had fish of some sort and i had the pasta in a strong cheese and broccoli sauce. we chatted, looking for all the world like all the other couples dotted around the place.

she asked me about work, where i lived and how long i'd been in each. when i attempted to get the conversation focused on Her, She simply waved my questions away.

we sat for hours, drinking coffee, me spilling whatever guts She wanted. She flitted from point to point, grilling them all. i was hypnotised by the flash in Her eyes and the glint of Her teeth, drunk on Her smell until time crawled to a standstill, broken and pointless.

and then She was standing and so was i and i'm helping Her into Her coat and She's patting me on the cheek and i'm following Her back up those stairs and i can hear the street outside and it's turned cold, early summer night and we're outside now and She's telling me i'm a good boy and She's patting me on the cheek again and i'm by myself and She's gone into the crowds that split and rush past me.

the nobodies - marilyn manson

it's been easier today. ok, i haven't done a whole lot - just pottered, really. i deleted a whole shitload of files cluttering up my hard drive. i polished off the rest of last night's chickpea curry and most of a carton of fresh orange.

keeping myself busy's the key, i think.

so tonight, i'm meeting up with tam the ham and his new friend. i have no idea where - or what we're doing - just that i'm having her shown off to me this evening.

there's no clubs on tonight that i can think of, so it's probably just an evening in some pub somewhere. knowing tam, it'll be some sort of spit 'n' sawdust experience. some haven of suspicious-looking old men and thugs selling tobacco and dvds.

or perhaps he's still at the stage of trying to impress this new lady-friend. maybe we'll end up in somewhere full of glass and tubular steel and music too loud to talk through.

i'm feeling a little better today than yesterday. able to laugh at things, which i wasn't, twenty-four hours ago. i know i couldn't have faced either licensed premises or my colleagues last night. not without serious firepower, at any rate! or a couple of dozen pipe-bombs. for that "spirit of columbine" effect.

staring at the ceiling - slow children

it's getting harder to stay off the cancer-sticks. yesterday seems like a walk in the park, compared with today. yesterday, i only wanted a fag; since about lunchtime, i think i'd be prepared to kill for one. by tomorrow, i'll probably be ready to blowtorch my own parents for a few draws.

it's friday and the night all idiots win their freedom. hurl themselves into pubs in pursuit of inappropriate bonding with the scum they work with.

apart from my worries on "the gay thing" question, i'd be smoking again within a couple of hours. so i came home via sainsbury's and picked up the makings of a chickpea curry.

one problem with stopping smoking is that burning need "to do something with my hands". which equates to "doing something involving my mouth". eating as a cigarette-substitute.

we live in a culture of instant gratification, a society built on sugar and salt to cover the taste of all that fat.

so, i'm trying to stay away from crisps and chocolate. i won't manage, but if i at least try, i can minimise the damage they do. to that end, i've stockpiled fruit.

i might as well post this up. i've been sitting Here looking at the screen for about ten minutes now.

miss You - the rolling stones

still not smoked and that's well over twenty-four hours now! i'm feeling fairly positive about stopping for good.

i had the tiniest twinge this morning, walking past the smokers on my way in, but nothing much. feeling like i should be having one before i went in. which is why they call it a habit, i suppose.

it was a bit stronger in the afternoon when i was getting bored. i caught myself rationalising "just stretching my legs" and so on. trying to find an excuse to "just have the one".

we texted each other all day today. both of us having a slow day, somewhere between Her "not much to do" and my "couldn't give a shit".

we've even developed a running gag - our first, i think. when i say something She could possibly be offended by, She tells me, "i could punish you for that." and every time i read it - or, better still, hear Her say it, i get a warm tingle the full length of my body.

these are the moments you feel most truly alive, don't you? the times when Someone Important restates the power dynamic that lifts 'n' separates you as a couple.

and we were on the phone a good couple of hours tonight. not our usual three-hour-marathon, but it shot by as they always do.

She has a cough. intermittent, but like a machine-gunning when it kicks in.

and my throat and lungs keep wanting to join in. to spasm in solidarity, wrenching the last couple of weeks' worth of phlegm out of my chest. i can't say i'm looking forward to that bit.

so when She coughs, i fight not to join in on the choruses. try not to feel the noise She's making. try to keep my imagination from racing off into what my cough's going to feel like.

so i might have picked Her up wrong when i half-caught Her mentioning Female Supremacy. maybe She didn't say that at all. could easily have been something else instead.

then She went into Her cough and came out the other side talking about something else entirely.

and i forgot all about it til just this second.

bullet - severed heads

the single worst thing about the building i'm working in, has to be the rabbit-warren shape of the place. built on the founds of a seventeenth century dwelling-place, the architecture follows the original curves - no matter how eccentric-seeming - of what was there before. this means there's no shortage of priest-holes and hiding-places. which means, statistically speaking, anyone who's worked there for any length of time has probably overheard someone talking about them.

i've been doing a lot of thinking about the conversation i overheard. the one where i'm "rock hudson gay" as opposed to "john barrowman gay".

not that it bothers me, but how many of them actually believe i am gay? and, more importantly, am i going to have a problem with one of these?

i was thinking about this; about the operating levels of homophobia here, when my phone vibrated my leg. hoping for Her - but expecting elaine - i checked it. tam.

here's me wondering how you explain you aren't gay to someone trying to cover up their boy-on-boy feelings through queerbashing. my phone goes - and it's the bear in drag.

there'd been one or two texts from elaine earlier on, but these had petered out as our respective jobs dragged us under.

tam'd got his mojo back it seems, following last week's armageddon and that shone out of his texts.

oh yeah.

and he'd met someone.

actually, from the tone of the texts he was sending, he sounded a lot like me - happy as larry while still looking for the catch. is that endemic? something we A/all do?

we bounced texts off each other most of the afternoon. his enthusiasm was infectious and soon we were matching each other in cheerfulness.

and i almost forgot - i had what i hope is my last cigarette at lunchtime. it's almost six and every time i think about lighting up, i re-read tam's texts, lock onto that enthusiasm, choose life and all that other shit.

these days - joy division

every time i buy cigarettes, i hate myself for it. the cost, the way i get out of breath, running for a bus now. the people i'm forced up too close to these days.

every time i light one, the taste reminds me that i don't like that, either. i need to stop. and soon.

i devoted lunchtime to running round the shops, paying a few bills. in the various queues i found myself in, i had plenty of opportunity to text Her back.

Her texts had started around eleven. She had to be in bored-at-work mode, i got two back for every one i sent.

following on from last night's phonecall, we were still discussing the various ways that i could fit into Her life. how i could maximise Her happiness, comfort and convenience. and pleasure.

it's strange that we fit together so snugly. how we reciprocate each other so well. the things i'm drawn to that She loves to inflict. the things She's mentioned that i've always wanted to try.

of course, it's hard to let go of my operating levels of cynicism. faced with Someone who so closely matches so many of the criteria of my personal set of values, it's difficult to really believe it's really happening.

in the gaps between our flurries of communication, i realise i'm looking for the catch, i'm trying to second-guess Her, work out what it is that She wants. Her under-the-counter agenda.

a Domme i used to know once told me Her rule-of-thumb was, "when it all sounds too good to be true, it usually is".

under the wires - the cramps

slow day at work. in a way, it's better to be run off my feet - at least the time passes quicker. today dragged from start to finish.

one thing that brightened today up was elaine texting. she's in a chirpy mood - which usually means she's met The Perfect Dom, although I remember she behaved much the same way when her sister had the twins, too.

of course, playing text-tennis, whoever it's with, means the workplace gossip's started already. i've had several invites for a lunchtime drink, i realise. going for a fag's the worst. stuck out there with these inquisitive half-wits, fielding their moronic questions while internally trying to castigate myself for still smoking.

they're the best argument i've ever heard for abstinence. in fact, one positive today was not going for one all afternoon. i just couldn't face them - any of them.

with so little in their own lives, they're hell-bent on sucking all the colour out of mine. it's not even that they're particularly interested - they just cling to anything they think might give them a few moments blessed relief from the perma-horror of waking up inside themselves every day of life.

back to elaine's texts, though. me bringing up the subject of Her had two purposes. firstly, admitting how loved up i am might make it easier for her to open up about Whoever hers is.

and, secondly, i have to talk to someone about all this. before my skull explodes.

i got home to an answering machine message from Her. and another message on fetlife. i texted Her and, ten minutes later, She rang me.

it was only when She ended the call, i realised we'd been talking for almost three hours. that's the problem with wireless handsets - if we'd been wired to the same place, one of us would have needed a coffee - or the toilet. the call would have ended.

but being able to flit from room to room without a break in transmission, this stretches a call lasting maybe an hour to three times that.

did you see Her - pink military stand alone

tam the ham texted on his way to the munch yesterday. so much for me getting a lift through and back. apparently, some wee switchy-girl needed a lift - so that was "my" seat arsed.

nice of him to tell me. still, it's good he's back to normal again.

these things that are sent to try us. just as we're supposed to be stopping smoking, too. i went through a full twenty-packet yesterday after i got it that he wasn't coming.

he phoned this morning, around half-ten, obviously feeling guilty. i let it go to the answering machine.

that was me awake though, so i jumped in the shower and headed uptown. when the going gets tough, the tough commit shopping.

i had a look round a few places, i bought a pair of jeans for work from primark and a standells' cd in fopp.

it was in boots' i saw Her. She was about twenty feet away, tilting something away from Herself as if trying to read it and catch the light.

i did a double-take.

that's - She looks a lot like - christ, it is Her! trying not to stare, unable to wrench my eyes away. people pushing past me, i start, realise where i am, cross the aisle, move away from Her, trying to locate Her reflection in the windows as i practically sprint for the door.

outside, i drift hurriedly, without any real conception of where i'm going. i pass a pub i haven't set foot in for years. i remember it's dark inside. an old man's pub where they stop talking every time the door opens. i double back and march straight in.

served, i took a table as far as i could from the bar and felt the darkness closing up around me. for fuck's sake - that was close!

it's always weird, stumbling across an Ex like that - do even vanillae feel like that, too? it's easy to understand why we'd feel this way - suddenly catching sight of Someone i've experienced incredible vulnerability with.

i think when you're in a relationship, it always feels like it'll never end. no matter whether that relationship's good or bad, it just seems eternal, unchanging.

then afterwards, when all the dust's settled, that's when you get a chance to think, "what was all that about?"

i finished my pint, got another, texted tam and waited for him to reply.

nothing.

finished my pint and came back home.

Her - tindersticks

i wonder what it'd be like, being owned by Her?

that's the question i've been asking myself over and over, these last couple of days.

we get on like a house on fire, She "gets" me like i don't think anyone else ever has; and i think i "get" Her, too.

there's moments when i think i've got it all figured out. everything slots into place. a couple of minutes later, i spot a fact i'd forgotten to fit into this unified field theory of mine and the whole thing collapses like a house of cards.

i sat on fetlife, informed consent and collar me. three tabs open, all night. i think i went to bed around two. i had thunderbird up too, just in case She e-mailed.

i exchanged a few messages with a few people, nothing exciting. a Domme from london i've been talking to, on and off, for around three years. tam (in serious mode) half-joking about what he's planning to wear and/or do for this munch this afternoon.

he's getting it back, i think. there were short flashes of the old tam - his sense of humour would kick in for a moment and then off again. i almost brought up the subject of Her again, but bit my tongue. poor old bastard's got enough on his plate.

so i left it. kept my thoughts to myself.

the thing is, there are far too many variables to consider. i know so little about Her. for all i know, She could be a serial killer - or worse, a journalist.

a journalist isn't the worst thing that could happen to me. it's not like i have this huge career that i need to protect or anything. Her not being all She says, though. that would hurt.

i don't know anyone - male/female, top/bottom or even gay/straight, who haven't been conned by someone, somewhere. if not a journalist,then a pushy do-me sub, one of those Dom/mes who know everything - who have *every* possible toy and accoutrement - and the only thing They don't have is experience.

i don't even know Her last name. or where She lives. i have an idea She works in the bar or hotel trade. something in the service industries, anyway. probably. and that was only because She'd let it slip that She'd done hospitality studies at the same college i'd gone to when i left school.

i've not had a fag since last night, which is good. that's almost eleven hours, give or take. if i can manage today, then tomorrow, monday should be plain sailing. after all, at work, i have to go all the way outside. i can't just light up like i do at home.

tell me a story - iggy pop

tam texted me early afternoon, asking if i fancied a pint. i replied in the affirmative. after everything that came out yesterday, i could do with going through it with someone, laying it out flat to see what kind of sense it all makes.

another thing i wanted some input into was the addiction. this morning, i'd woken, already coughing, with a sore throat. so i'd decided not to smoke. i lasted less than two hours, which shocked me. i thought i'd have managed until this evening, at least.

i met tam in the acrobats' arms in town. i was there first, so i texted him, then took a paper from the rack and carried it - and my pint - to a corner table. i was halfway through a story about levels of domestic violence among government ministers, when tam suddenly appeared, towering over the table. he had a black eye and i had a feeling there would be a story attached.

he pointed at my pint. i glanced at it, nodded at him. he turned towards the bar as i closed the paper, tossed it towards the window sill, missed, came round the table and picked it up.

i sat down and watched tam at the bar. the way the barman leapt to serve him. the way young guys tend to do when you look as if you've been in a fight. even if it looks like you came second. tam came back to the table, sat, slid the darker pint across to me.

i waited for him to start.

"see after you fucked off..?" he began. and for the next thirty minutes, more or less, i sat in silence as he described saturday night's catalogue of disasters.

as he told it, his voice shook, as did his hands. i've never seen him so angry.

i let him go on til he finally ran out of steam. although i'd planned to run a few things past him, it felt churlish to interrupt just because i felt loved up and fancied stopping smoking.

we had a couple of pints and left. tam seemed drained, deflated after telling me what'd happened. outside, i lit a fag as we started walking.

"i thought that was you back on the fags," he said. he shook his head. "fuckin' stupid if you ask me."

blue light - ultravox!

i don't normally post this late, but a number of things all came to the boil at once today and tonight.

following on from our text exchange yesterday on the subject of d.a.f. de sade, a long e-mail from Her when i got in from work tonight. also, a post on ic in reply to my post on Sade the other night. from a Domme i used to be good pals with.

years and years ago, there was a club here. they never found a venue that lasted more than a few months, so it was irregular, often missing two months at a time.

it was run by a Dom-Domme couple. They owned a slave each and held several in common. unfortunately, they all lived - and worked - together, but not in perfect harmony.

i got to knew them as a clump of individuals, an extended dysfunctional family. i went to several of Their parties, over maybe a two, three year period.

then it all went tits up.

They split asunder with a flash, brighter than a thousand suns and a sound like the gates of hell, slamming closed. and the fallout was terrible.

i think there were cracks from the word go. when it got out that His slave was pregnant, the mushroom cloud could be seen for miles.

so, as per usual, with scene people, a couple splitting up means a national schism; everybody being expected to choose one side or the other. despite my best attempts at remaining friends with all parties, it's only Her i still talk to.

and She'd replied to my post on ic, wishing everyone a merry Sademass.

it must be a year or more since i last spoke to her.

it's weird, Her resurfacing right at this point in my life - She's a rabid non-smoker. She denies it, but only an ex-smoker could be as born-again evangelical as She is!

i didn't mention my relapse in my reply.

happy birthday - stevie wonder

it's the Marquis de Sade's birthday today. i'd posted something up on fetlife and ic about it just after midnight. then forgotten to check whether anyone had replied yet when i got up.

that said, i'd texted a couple of people to wish them a happy Sademass. elaine replied almost at once and, shortly afterwards, so did She.

going back to what i was saying yesterday, Sade's a textbook case. a writer i lapped up when i was young and idealistic, the decades, wastelands and failed relationships slowly ground that down and out in me.

She sparks these things up in me. forces me to remember when things looked good - or, at least, better than this!

the last few years have been shit, if i'm honest. they didn't kill me, so they must have made me stronger, but it was touch and go for a while there.

coincidentally enough, i heard something at work today that put all of that in a truer perspective.

i've got into the habit of late of fetching and replacing my own files from the cabinets.

there are "assistants" whose job is to keep the files-system ticking over. the ones i've watched and/or spoken to seem to be around twenty and hate the entire world - starting with this place. and all who sail in her.

i was kneeling on the floor, replacing a file i'd just finished with, when i heard voices. two of the assistants, getting closer, trying to mutter under their breath. and then, i picked out my name. i was under discussion!

they were discussing how gay i was. and, what kind of gay - "rock hudson" or "john barrowman". i was appalled - and fascinated - simultaneously.

i stayed down and their conversation soon shifted to football, then which club they should go to on saturday as they wandered back the way they'd come.

which is odd. i suppose you never can tell, the impact you're going to have on those around you. but it's still a surprise to learn that i'm thought of as gay. especially after what happened last monday.

no sacrifice (in love and revolution) - nocturnal emissions

nice mild morning. nobody inside the bus shelter. we lounged beside it, against it. flicked our dimps at the cyver as the bus appeared round the corner. do more people start smoking again, i wonder, when the decent weather comes in?

at the far end, i had one in my mouth and my lighter in my hand with two stops to go. it's surprising how fast we slip back into all the habits that grow out from our smoking as soon as we start again.

although, if i'm honest, i'm growing bored with the smoking idiots at work much faster than i'd have expected.

their pathetic conversations about reality teevee, soaps and football. the ongoing discussion on which of our colleagues are definitely gay. the casual racism, trannied up as opinions on terrorism.

even in my new identity as a smoker - one of them - it didn't take me long to start standing slightly apart from them.

after yesterday's text-wimbledon, i found myself thinking a lot about Her last night and today. if i actually remembered my dreams, She was probably occupying them, too!

She's unlike anyone i think i've ever met, i think. beautiful, mysterious and with a fascinating perspective on things i'd stopped considering a long time ago. why is it, that getting through life demands so many sacrifices and compromises?

She makes me want to improve my perspective, shines a bright light onto everything i've learned to take for granted. christ, She makes me want things i'm not sure i could handle if they came true!

ok. i'm being a little coquette-ish here. not going into the gory (and exciting!) details of our conversations.

i've been on my own for the last few years. hanging in that limbo at the end of any relationship. where it's definitely ended but i've not yet worked up the courage to try to open myself up all over again.

and then, when Someone does come along, the same old fear. am i ready? is This One frog or Princess?

driving me backwards - brian eno

after the weekend's adventures, this morning was a bumpy landing. back to earth. through the bus' filthy windows, the journey to work, all greys and washed out browns, seemed to shoot by. why is it, the same route, coming home in the opposite direction, seems to drag and take forever?

plus - i'm constantly surprised by the nuts and bolts of this addiction i thought i'd buried. the speed at which all the movements return to me. the way i plan now, getting a cigarette out when i know i'll have a chance to smoke.

as well as suddenly being on first name terms with different people, both at work and at play.

conversations are different too. easier to strike up outside of wherever you're meant to be. even if it is only with colleagues.

the other thing about smoking is the breaks i'm allowed to take. as a non-smoker, if i was to get up from my desk and go and stand outside for ten minutes, i'd be carpetted.

however, all i have to do now is moan a little about how hard it is to stay off, how much the little buggers cost these days and so on... and bob's your uncle. pitying looks and regular breaks.

but the one things that kept me going was/were the flurry of text messages She hit me with all day. one of those days where the communication was thick and fast - in heavy globs.

we're covering a lot of ground, She and i. common ground, a lot of it, which amazes me regularly.

some of it's kinks - in which we seem to reciprocate each other. a lot of it's other stuff, teevee and films we both like. we agree on a lot of comedy, from "the young ones" to "green wing". and, best of all, She loathes the dread mr bean as much as i do.