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.