Two of the strangest things happened at my next meeting with H.
He had arranged for us to visit The Annexe a holiday let attached to the home of a pair of veterans in the community. It was a place that I had discovered when Sir had tasked me with finding alternatives to hotels, and the set up seemed ideal. A kitchen/diner/living room with a sofa bed, a bedroom, shower room, kinky store-room and a dungeon. People can hire it for a kinky holiday, and fulfill their desires with the large selection of toys and furniture. It was quite a trek for me, but before I could voice my concerns I was told he would collect me and we could drive up together.
As it was somewhere I had been curious about I could hardly complain.
We drove up with his music going through the speakers, general conversation and good company. We arrived at The Annexe after almost two hours driving, and the owners met us at the door. He showed off his latest creations that he was taking orders for, and she showed me around the space while pointing out the kettle and plate of biscuits –sneakily snaffling a couple while she chattered away. Introductions over with they left us to get comfortable. I made cups of tea then sat on the sofa while he got his things in order. While I sat there he popped his head around the door and tossed a velvet bag in my direction “that’s for you” he said, before disappearing again.
I tentatively opened the bag, almost dreading it, I knew what it felt like and felt fairly awkward.
It was a collar. A metal ring that could be locked in place with an allen key. It was shiny and felt cool to my touch and… made me feel a little bit sick really. This was my third time meeting with H, my second time to play with him, and as far as I was concerned he wasn’t my dominant. As we had discussed previously we would be friends who played, the collar felt too much, too official, too significant…. well, it wasn’t right for me. He came back to the room and said that he wanted me to have it because he felt strong feelings for me. So I had to have an uncomfortable conversation: I told him that I couldn’t offer more than we had agreed, that I didn’t feel that way for him, suggested that maybe we should call off the evening if he was going to be feeling hurt.
He asked me to wear it for the play, and I agreed on the proviso that it was a play collar and didn’t represent ownership in any way.
It is strange the effect that a band of leather or metal can have on me. The feeling of something being not quite right when I received this one was second only in discomfort to when I let another lady try on MY collar from Sir. My leather collar from Sir felt like going home, and this metal band made me feel like running away.
Once we got started we actually had a very pleasant play.
I had my feet suspended and caned, H made videos promising to share them with me. I was tied to the St Andrew’s Cross and flogged. There was a bright light above it which made me hot and a little light-headed, so we changed furniture again. There was more foot caning, and he used a belt on my soles too. If it was possible this felt even better than the canes. The sensation would track up my body to my nipples and then back down to my clitoris. There was no denying it, this was really, really good… It was a fair trade-off for wearing the collar.
If I hadn’t been expecting the collar what happened next was really off the chart…
We finished up, packed away and I wiped the room down before making a cup of tea. He sat opposite me, fiddled in his bag and then pulled out a wad of notes. He waved them in my direction and said they were also for me. I couldn’t accept them. He said that he wanted me to take it to cover my “expenses.” The look on my face must have told him more than words ever could, but I found the words eventually. Each to their own, and I would never judge people who make money from their sessions, but for me it changes everything. As a single mum I would never have enough money and so it may well have made things much more comfortable at home, but I felt strongly that money could not exchange hands for play with me. And I was learning that if I didn’t defend myself (politely and respectfully) I would end up hating myself. And I had already put in a lot of hard work to prevent that. After what felt like an hour but was probably just a couple of minutes, H understood that if he tried to give me money again then that would be an end to meeting him.
So being brave enough to feel uncomfortable was the only way to ensure that I could lead the life I was striving for.
To be outstanding get comfortable with being uncomfortable was first published on A Leap of Faith