BDSMTEST.ORG results

== Results from http://bdsmtest.org/ ==
96% Bondage Giver
88% Experimentalist
71% Switch
70% Bondage Receiver
51% Dominant
50% Daddy/Mommy
41% Voyeur
38% Non-monogamist
34% Brat Tamer
33% Submissive
29% Exhibitionist
25% Brat
25% Vanilla
20% Degradation Giver
19% Primal (Prey)
16% Primal (Predator)
11% Girl/Boy
9% Sadist
8% Degradation Receiver
8% Masochist
4% All-Rounder
0% Master/Mistress
0% Pervert
0% Slave
See my results online at http://bdsmtest.org/result.php?id=237314

Cross posts from Fetlife

These are things I wrote on Fetlife that I want to share with the wider world. If there is one.

Late Jan 2015, after my first ever munch:

I have a problem. Well, several actually but one in particular that I need to talk about here.
I’m too nice.
I’m a kinkster. I’ve always been a kinkster. My first erections were watching Emma Peel and The Girl From Uncle being tied up by the baddies, some time around 1968/68 when I was 12 or 13. My first orgasm was at about the same age when I was lying on the floor, tied into something resembling a sloppy hogtie by a bunch of my (female) girl friends as part of a ‘tying up’ game and hidden underneath a pile of their clothes.
But the bondage was tongue in cheek, melodrama, camp. Penelope Pitstop. Even when I discovered Harmony Communications and John Willie it seemed the women were enjoying being bound and weren’t in any pain or distress.
I took the FL quiz yesterday and was initially surprised to see ‘pervert’ right down the bottom. Not me at all. Hunh? But then I read the definition and was happy to not be there.
I grew up in the 60s. Despite the ‘sexual revolution’, kink was very much frowned upon and hidden. And as for women’s lib – how can I be a feminist and also want to tie up women? But in the few short weeks I’ve been here and going to munches I’ve met – online and in reality – a number of women who seem to enjoy being… well… ‘abused’. And that both shocks and excites me. And in other places, with other identities, I’ve come across plenty of feminist submissives.
(Side Tryp – see http://www.sugarbutch.net/2014/04/ask-mr-sexsmith-f… for an excellent article on that subject)
Do I have an inner dom/master/sadist/top, or am I – as the quiz would imply – just into bondage? I’ve often said I don’t know what to do with the women I’ve bound. Whip? Cane? Paddle? Spank? All feel like abuse to me. Breast bondage? Yes please. But nipple clamps? No thanks. Even fucking them while they’re tied up feels like I’m abusing them.
Do I need to be braver, take courage? Or trust and believe that they are telling the truth? I wouldn’t want to date a true masochist, someone with no self worth, I want my partner(d?) To be confident and happy. Wherever else I’m not an abuser. I love women. So how to I inflict pain and/or humiliation (if that’s what they really desire) without it feeling like abuse?
I know there’s a massive difference between informed consensual power play/bdsm and abuse, but I’m having difficulty accepting that in myself and knowing where the boundary is. And that sometimes makes me feel like a bit of a wuss and a pussy.
I’m a big believer that no means no. I just find it hard sometimes to believe that yes means yes.

18th February 2015:

Last weekend, on a business trip to Dublin, I paid a pro domme £250 to tie me up, fuck my arse, piss on me, kiss her boots, and generally dominate me for 90 minutes. It was great.
A few days before that I paid £200 to a submissive escort so that I could tie her up, strap her up, collar her, harness her, hogtie her, gag her, blindfold her, fondle her, worship her, stroke her, and make her cum. She was unbelievable – the best pro sub I’ve ever seen, by a long way – and I was in absolute fucking heaven.
But they were both fantasy worlds, and in any case I can’t afford to go on doing that.
But now I’m starting to meet women that like that sort of thing in their real lives and want to do it. For free. And maybe even with me.
But where do I start? And how? How do I say to someone I meet (e.g. at a munch) “hi, you’re gorgeous. Can I tie you up?” or “can I be your slave”?
I’m still new here and I’m sure these things will happen in time but for now I’m a bit lost.
Any advice?
Or, better still, any offers?

March 2015:

When I joined Fet, a couple of years ago I guess, I described myself as a ‘switch’ and I’ve left it like that until now. And yes, I do like to be tied up and relinquish control, be told what to do, surrender myself to someone that I trust.
But back then I was much more ambivalent about my dom side. Unsure about whether there really were women that would potentially enjoy subbing to me – as I keep saying I am a feminist and I love women. And abuse of any kind is the last thing on my mind. But as I am meeting more and more women – in various walks of life, online, at munches, on dating sites, in the ‘real’ world – that genuinely enjoy subbing and want it, I am finding that I am more comfortable with my dom side.
I think I’ll leave my description as ‘switch’ for now but don’t be surprised if some time soon I change it to dom.

March 2015:

It was easier when I identified as switch but now I’m not sure. Dom? Top (see writing)? Master (doubt it).
My primary kink is, and always was, tying up women and adoring them. Not into whips, canes, branding, owning, spanking or collaring (*well maybe…?)
Sure I like to use the paddle or hand (or flogged – lightly) to emphasise her helplessness, but no lasting marks or damage – and all within the context of a mutually respectful and generally equal relationship (ideally, partnership).
So does that make me a dom or a top? And if I like to surrender sometimes and be restrained myself, does that make me a switch? FL only allows one ‘role’ and I don’t want to put off any potential friend, playmate or partner by choosing the wrong one.

What a wonderful world

I realise I rather left this blog hanging, and people – real people, wonderful friends – have been telling me I should update it. so here I go.

it’s been over a year since my marriage and life exploded and to be honest its been in many ways the most wonderful and extraordinary year of my life. I’m in the process of divorcing my wife and moving out of the family home, and although there is inevitable sadness about that it’s really overshadowed by the immense sense of relief and anticipation for what lies ahead.

My friendship with Yasmina has deepened and she’s now pretty much my closest friend. through her I’ve also met the most wonderful young woman – I’ll call her Hayley (after Mills) who I hope will also become a lifelong friend and sometime play partner. I’ve also made contact with a woman – call her Gillian (after Boardman) – that I loved when we were 17 and 15 and she’s been a partner (mainly long distance, she’s not in the UK) in many ways through the amazing journey that has been the past 13 months.

I’m out – obviously – but in so many more ways than just one.

Turns out that kink was just the top of a very big iceberg of things I couldn’t be, do, think with my wife. I can now make the friends I want to make, not the friends I have to have for her. I don’t have any pressure to feel a certain way or have certain thoughts. And I’m sure my children know that feeling, the having to censor yourself for mum’s sake.
I’m on Fetlife – have been for a while but wasn’t active – and through that I’ve made more friends and had some great fun. I’ve gone to munches, LAM and LFF, and bought new toys to play with. Through Fet I’ve also been in touch with, and chatted to, some incredibly significant people from my ‘secret’ past – Lorelei Mission, JJ Plush, Sandra Gibbons to name but three. And I’ve realised (duh!) that there are real women out there who genuinely enjoy what I dream of doing – the ‘tie up and worship’ thing.

When I started this blog I was probably more sub than Dom, largely because I couldn’t bring myself to do what I wanted to do for fear of hurting or upsetting the women (professional) that I was playing with – I honestly didn’t believe that there might be women who genuinely loved being tied up and dominated. But now I’ve met several – some who love it far more extreme than I’d ever go – and I’m becoming much happier and content with my dom side. Probably won’t ever stop enjoying switching sometimes – it’s great to be tied up – but I’ve changed my Fet description from ‘switch’ to ‘dom’.

I’m going to cross post a couple of things I wrote on Fet here before long. I want them to be more publicly available & more visible for posterity.

I’m fine. Really. I’m absolutely fine.

And more ‘me’ than I have been in decades. ‘Maureen’ is dead but lives on inside me as part of the same, whole, person. Joan Eunice Smith has become whole.

Shit, meet fan

So on March 1st this year Maureen came out of the closet and all Hell broke loose.
In other words, I told my wife about my ‘secret life’ and within a couple of days we were over forever. She reacted pretty much as I thought she would and for about three months my life was a miserable hell.
And then I started pulling myself out of it, and now I’m enjoying life. Most of my close friends know why we’ve broken up and Maureen is no longer a secret. And consequently she no longer bangs on her door trying to get out, it’s not locked anymore. And she hasn’t needed to play for months. She’s happy to be free – and I’m happy that she’s no longer a separate split off part of me.
There’s loads more to tell, of course, and I’ll try to update this blog a bit more often in future – just know that I’m still here, still deliciously kinky and pervy, and now single and looking for real life playmates and a long term partner. I’ve signed up with OKCupid – been on a few dates and had some kinky bondage fun with some fabulous women. I may never need to pay for playtime again – though I have a strong urge to visit Miranda again, just one more time…

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OK. If you’re new here, this is my story in brief. Bear in mind that this particular piece of text was written about six months ago and things have moved on since then…

I am a 58 year old married man with two children aged 15 and 11. I have been with my partner A for 19 years, married for the last 4 of those.
Before I got together with A I had been single for several years, and ever since teenage years had had fantasies relating to bondage and domination which, from time to time, I acted out with professional dominatrixes and submissives.
From the very beginning of our relationship – and even before it started (we had worked together for some time before we became a couple) I knew that A was extremely intolerant of anything relating to ‘kink’ and so I decided not to tell her about it. For some weeks after our initial liaison we both discussed whether we should move in together (she was currently living with a man who told her flatly he did not want children – whereas she did, and I told her that I would like to have children one day), during which time I tried to decide whether I could ‘change’ and totally put aside my previous BDSM tendencies (never a lifestyle). And I decided that I would try.
So a week before she moved in with me I disposed of all my ‘fetish’ magazines and videos, and resolved to become ‘normal’.
For some years I was successful. Our sex life was adequate, if not great (I have never felt driven towards vanilla intercourse), and four years after we got together we had our first child.
When he was about ten months old I found myself in the West End with an hour or two to spare and saw a card in a phone box advertising ‘Mistress Roxette’. My heart thumped and I decided to go and see her then and there. I did, and thoroughly enjoyed myself as I had always done. But afterwards, having had a pint and on my way home, I started to regret it and feel guilty. Of course, I said nothing to A.
But that was the start of a slide back into old habits, until before too long I was seeing professional dominatrixes three or four times a year. At around the same time our sex life began to tail off (I had never initiated it and was hardly enthusiastic at the best of times) and we had had a second child in 2002.
With the lack of sex, and the lack of intimacy that went with it, A began to get very angry with me – and all I could say was “yes, you’re right, I have no sex drive”. She also said that she didn’t feel supported by me, that I was emotionally distant, and that I was passive and never initiated anything (e.g. sex, but also holiday plans, Christmas shopping, etc.).
We had rows maybe five or six times a year after that on the same recurring themes – some resulting in days or even weeks of barely speaking to each other, but in between these we got on OK superficially even though it was clear that A was unhappy.
Last September we had a huge row and A challenged me to do something about myself – so I made an appointment to see a counsellor at the Tavistock. I had two initial assessments, during which we explored (among other things) my sexuality and during which I actually felt quite good about myself. I guess my agenda at that time was “how can I make a nominal change, while actually keeping everything exactly as it is?”.
It took four months for the Tavi to get back to me with a counsellor and a time/date to meet. During those months it is fair to say that I was in quite a lot of turmoil – the counsellor had asked me a number of difficult questions such as “do you like yourself? Do other people like you? How badly do you want to change? What would be a successful outcome of therapy? Are you looking for a way to leave your wife?”, etc. He also commented that, far from being ‘distant’ and ‘passive’, I was actually very present and alive in the assessment sessions.
So during the Christmas/new year period I asked myself these questions and went over these issues, and I decided that I did like myself and I didn’t particularly want to change – not for myself, at least. I took the risk of telling three close friends about my fantasy life and none of them were shocked or disgusted, but they all said I had to tell my wife. It began to become clear that that was how I had always been, and wanted to go on being. I *liked* having my fantasies. I *liked* acting them out.
In February 2014 the Tavi had still not found me a therapist so I contacted them to ask when I could expect to be assigned one, and to ask for another ‘holding’ session with the man that had done the previous assessments. That only served to strengthen my emerging feelings. At the end of February I finally had my first session with the counsellor at the Tavi, and his approach was interpretative – therapeutic, aiming for change. But I didn’t think I wanted to change. I told my wife that I had some difficult decisions to make – I also told her that I had told my story to one of my oldest friends – a woman (‘B’) that my wife is quite fond of.
On 28th February this year B contacted me to say she was coming to London, and asked if I wanted to meet up. I said it might be awkward for A, knowing that B knew stuff about me that she – my own wife – didn’t. And I thought about the situation, and then the following morning I bit the bullet and told my wife pretty much everything – the bondage, the domination, the visits to dominatrixes.
I don’t think I could have imagined a worse scenario. She hissed and spat and called me names. Said that I had destroyed her life and both our children. Words she used included “Sordid”. “Parasite”. “Thank fuck I haven’t slept with you”. “Don’t you dare leave”. “You’re not going to destroy the children”. “The absolute antithesis of an adult relationship”. “You’ve taken the piss and you’ve been cruel to me three or four times a year for ten years”. I asked if I should move out and she said “don’t you fucking dare” – but that I must promise never to do it again. She asked me if I’d ever looked at pornographic websites – I couldn’t lie so I said yes. She said “if you ever – ever – look at porn in this house again I will tell your mother and sister”.
That Saturday night, in bed, she spent three hours interrogating me. Names, dates, prices, what had happened. Was I naked with these women? What did they use to tie me up? Did they use a gag on me? Did I get an erection? Did I have an orgasm? Was it always the same woman, or were there many?
I had a further meeting with the therapist at the Tavi that week but decided that I was not happy with the approach the therapist was taking, or the goal that he seemed to have in mind for me. So I contacted a friend (who is a ‘sex therapist’) to see if she would see me – she refused (as she should have done – boundary issues, etc.) but referred me to a more ‘kink friendly’ therapist – Ronete Cohen. I met Ronete for an initial session and pretty much immediately decided to stop the Tavi sessions and see Ronete instead.
I’m still seeing Ronete. In many ways I don’t want to change. I like doing what I do. Every time I have told a friend about my inner life I have felt more free, more open. I am tired of the lies and secrets – I want to be me and I want to be free.
I don’t want to lose my wife, my house – especially my children, but I cannot promise that I will never do it again (which is A’s condition for me staying in the house). That would make me too unhappy and it wouldn’t be a promise that I could keep. I need to be myself.
I think the biggest mistake I made was choosing a partner that I knew would be completely intolerant of any kind of kink. That’s why I kept it a secret for so long. She is a feminist who believes that all pornography is degrading and evil, and a psychotherapist who believes that all kink is perverted and sick. I don’t agree with either of those opinions – and that is one reason why we are unable to talk. We cannot find any middle ground.
There is another complicating factor.
A year or so ago I stopped seeing ‘dominatrixes’ (I don’t want to be hung upside down in a dark black dungeon and whipped, domestic is fine for me) and decided instead to try visiting ‘escorts’ that claimed to offer domination services (typically less expensive than dominatrixes as well). One of these was very pleasant though not very satisfying, the other (‘Yasmina’) was… extraordinary. I saw her again a couple of times and asked if there were any chance she would be willing to see me socially and, to my amazement, she said yes.
To cut a long story short, Yasmina and I are now close friends. We have not sessioned for some time (and have never had sex) but I see her on average once a week for a drink or a meal. We are not ‘having an affair’ – she has a boyfriend who knows all about me – but we are seeing each other and are, I think each other’s closest confidantes.
A finds this extremely hurtful and I do understand why, but Yasmina is the one good thing to come out of this and I am not willing to stop seeing her. And if, as D insists, we are no longer a couple and never will be, how can she dictate who I do and don’t choose to see and be friends with?
I can only really see three possible options:
•    Stay with A, give up my sexuality completely and forever and be unhappy forever. I could try but I really don’t think I could do it.
•    Leave A and the children, be lonely, homeless and penniless. And unhappy forever. And it would kill the kids.
•    Change A’s attitude somehow so that we can live together in some way where we can both get what we want and need. But TBH that’s the least likely scenario – would involve her completely rethinking and changing her attitude. Which – I suspect – would be as impossible as me doing it.
When I told her, I had had a mad thought and hope that if A could somehow accept me as I am it would make our relationship much better and richer, might even lead to a return of the closeness we once had. But it was not to be.

Genies and bottles

For most of my teenage years and young adult life I kept the ‘Maureen’ side of me carefully hidden, and felt guilty and ashamed of my thoughts and fantasies. I also felt very lonely.

(Btw it may be difficult for some people to imagine what life was like in the pre-internet times. No adult websites (really – once upon a time you actually had to *pay* for porn!), no chat rooms, no dommes or subs advertising their services on websites with photos…)

And when I went into (work related) therapy, I knew I’d have to tell my analyst all about them and I assumed that she’d try to ‘cure’ me as part of the therapy. But in the event that didn’t happen – oh, I told her about it all, and we spent five years talking and exploring my desires and fantasies (some expressed themselves in the here-and-now of the therapeutic session, directly towards my – female – analyst), but far from trying to ‘cure’ me she worked with me to try to overcome the shame and embarrassment.

And it worked. I came out not feeling so ashamed any more. Feeling OK about myself, but still very much alone.
And then, a few years later, something happened quite out of the blue and as a result I ended up in a relationship with the woman who would later become my wife. She was already in a relationship, I hadn’t been in one for years, and we spoke for a while about whether we should try to make a go of it as a couple. During these weeks I made a few very tentative and subtle comments and references, seeing if there were any way that she might be into – or be willing to get into – a sex life that included a lot of bondage/domination but it was clear to me very early on that the answer was no. So for me, one of the questions was whether I was willing to put all that away forever. And I decided that I would try.

So, a few days before she moved in, I took a trip to a local dump and disposed of everything. My books, magazines, videos, clothes, ropes – everything went into black bags and then a skip. And it was frightening and liberating at the same time. I thought I’d put it all behind me and was free. And for a long time – years, probably – I was perve-free and ‘normal’. At least actively – I may have had thoughts and desires but I didn’t do anything about them. And for years I didn’t see any ‘sex workers’ at all. I was absolutely monogamous and 100% faithful.

(Incidentally, I want to say that in my mind I have never been unfaithful to my wife. I don’t see these women for anything other than an hour of role playing.)

But slowly, slowly, over time, the temptations crept back – fuelled partly by my increasing use of the internet and consequent discovery of assorted websites. And as the thoughts and desires started coming back, I was more and more tempted by what I saw and then one day, unable to withstand temptation any longer, I went to see a dominatrix. And I loved it just as much as I ever had. And sure enough, before too long, I went again.

And of course, the shame and embarrassment and guilt started coming back – even worse now since I was in a relationship. I decided early on to say nothing, hoping it would go away, but it didn’t and the longer it went on the bigger it got and the more I had to hide it and the more impossible it became to say anything until now it’s out of hand and as big as it’s ever been and the truth is that I like it like that.

And then a few months ago (late 2013) I told three different people about Maureen (‘came out’ if you like) in the space of a fortnight, and I stopped being ashamed. And in the past week I have told two more people about it.
I now have five people in my life (plus one that I haven’t met but have talked to via FB) that know about my secret and not one of them thinks it’s bad, or disgusting, or anything to be ashamed of. Though they are worried about the potential impact on my family. One of them, of course, is Yasmina. I’ve been seeing her about once a week for the past three months – mostly just social visits, for a quick beer after work (oh – and I’m not having an ‘affair’, in case you were thinking that, she has a boyfriend and he knows about me). We’ve had a couple of ‘sessions’ where I pay for her time (and she’s charging me very reduced rates, which is great – I didn’t want to see her for free, needed to keep the ‘sessions’ as a professional thing), otherwise we just talk. We’ve become friends and she’s great. Great for me, as well as great in herself. And I think I’m good for her as well.

Another of those people was – is – a counsellor at the Tavistock Institute; I went there a few months ago to see somebody because my relationship with my wife had deteriorated to the point where I had to do something about it. And I talked. And talked. And then there was a break over Christmas when I couldn’t talk to anyone (Yasmina was away) and my thoughts went round and round and I got lost and needed to talk to someone but there was no-one… And all the time Maureen was getting more and more embedded and I got to like her more and more until I decided a few weeks ago that I did not want therapy to try to ‘treat’ Maureen. Instead I wanted to figure out how I was going to deal with Maureen. And I’m going back to the Tavi in a couple of weeks for regular sessions to try to figure out what I’m going to do about her because she’s here to stay.

Because the more I think and talk about it the more I realise that I am actually ok in myself, I don’t want to change. I don’t want to hurt people around me but I feel I have to put me first. I can’t make everybody else happy at the expense of my own misery. I don’t want anyone to make me different, I want someone to help me deal with who I am. And to let other people know who I am if necessary. And that might mean telling my wife. And that might mean leaving my wife, and my family. And that is awful. But I can’t live a lie any longer.

A couple of months ago, when I was getting ready to leave Yasmina’s place after a ‘session’, I picked up my phone and saw that it was in the middle of a call to my wife. I freaked. Panicked. Seemed I’d somehow dialled her number and she’d been (possibly) listening and overhearing the entire session. I hung up immediately, then I think I gasped “oh Jesus no” a couple of times while the implications flooded in.

Yasmina was great. She told me to calm down and look more carefully at the call record, and when I did that I saw that the call had lasted barely a couple of seconds. Phew.

But in with the panic, for those couple of minutes, there was another feeling – of immense relief. It was out. It had happened. My wife knew about me. No going back. And in some ways I was almost disappointed when I realised she *didn’t* know.

Pretty much everyone that I have spoken to has said that I have to tell my wife. And it’s one thing to admit to a secret, but quite another to say you’ve kept that secret for twenty years.

Wooden wives and sugar

This is strange. Unusual and a bit unbelievable, I’m still not quite sure what’s happened or what is happening – but it looks very much as if Maureen has found a friend. Perhaps two, and maybe even three. Which was an impossible dream a couple of months ago.

I started this blog because I needed to express what I was thinking and feeling *somewhere*, even if nobody actually ever read what I wrote. For forty years or more I’ve hidden the ‘Maureen’ side of me from almost everyone apart from the few ‘sex workers’ that I’ve seen professionally, and this has been hard. Sometimes I’ve longed to talk to somebody, sometimes I’ve longed to just get it out, and I’ve often felt a bit hard done by that I’ve had to lock it all up inside me. Because, from where I stand, there’s nothing wrong with it. In fact it’s great fun. I *love* being Maureen. I love being bound and gagged, and I love doing it to attractive women. And there’s never any pain or unwillingness on either side and I’ve longed to meet somebody that I could just be 100% ‘me’ with. Myself and Maureen, integrated, whole. Relaxed. Open. Even when I’m not expressing my ‘kinky’ side, someone that knows it’s there and is OK with that.

And I *may* have found her.

I don’t want to assume too much (and she may be reading this) but I really hope this can go on – although I’m also terrified about what might happen if it did go on. Maureen has always been tightly locked away and compartmentalised, to have her so near the surface is odd and a little worrying. I’m putting a lot of trust in people I barely know – but it feels good, dammit.

In the summer of this year I paid a visit to an ‘escort’ who said on her profile that she did ‘domination’. Now I’ve been to a number of dominatrixes over the years but it’s become clear that they generally don’t satisfy me other than for the moment. And I’ve never been into dungeons, or torture, and – as I’ve posted before – I couldn’t help wondering whether there mightn’t be someone, someone, who would be willing to tie me up for a not-extortionate amount of money.

‘Escorts’ are generally less expensive than ‘dominatrixes’ and I’ve always made it clear that I don’t want sex (in honesty I’m starting to wonder whether that’s entirely true… hasn’t happened yet, though) and so a while ago I started looking at (primarily) Adultwork to see if there was somebody that might fit the bill. One or two almost did, but… then I met Yasmina (not her real name, by the way, nor her professional name).

Yasmina was a bit nervous about tying me up at first – and wasn’t even that good at it – but something about her got to me, even on our first meeting. I mentioned that I liked to tie up as well as be tied and she hinted that she might let me do that to her, so I was intrigued. And I contacted her again some weeks later after we’d both had our summer holidays.

She agreed to see me again, and to let me tie her up, and so I did. And then I went along and did it again. And then we switched, and she tied and dominated me a couple of times (and she does it very well, now that she’s got over her initial nervousness. I *love* being her slave).

And then I started dropping in to see her socially. And she seemed to like me, and we came to an arrangement whereby I would ‘do things’ for her in exchange for reduced rates. And then I ran out of money and carried on seeing her socially, and once or twice those social meetings almost became ‘sessions’.

And then a couple of weeks her flatmate somehow got involved, and Yasmina and I both tied *her* up. And it was *great* fun. And it IS great.

And I’m loving seeing Yasmina, and I miss her when I can’t see her for a while. And then I feel silly, that I shouldn’t feel that way – she’s less than half my age and a prostitute… but damn it, she’s lovely and she seems to like ‘Maureen’. And she even seems to like being tied up – we had a real laugh last week.

I’m not in love with her, of course not – but I do have a massive crush on her. And, late at night, if I’m on my own and have had a few drinks, I start to fantasize and think about what might have happened if I’d met Yasmina 20 years ago…

And so a couple of nights ago I wrote her a drunken letter:

I need to know you, I want to know you. I want to be your friend for a long time. I need to have you in my life as someone I can talk to and be with that knows about the Maureen side of me. I want to be with you, I want have you available, I want to be your friend, and I want you to be my friend. I need you in my life, I’ve been a long time without you.

But I’m not stupid or naive or blind, I know you see loads of men and that you have a boyfriend, I know I’m not as special to you as you are to me. And I’m not looking to have an ‘affair’ with you, or a ‘relationship’ as such, I’m happy for it to be as it is – and I’d feel a lot less desperate if I thought it could go on being like this. I’m kind of grabbing what I can, popping in whenever I can, because I worry it will all go soon and I won’t be able to see you anymore. Oh, I’m sure I could still have ‘sessions’ with you for as long as you continue escorting but I want more than that. I want to see you more than I can afford to pay for and more often than I can find time to. I want to explore all the things that I’ve only been able to fantasize about. I want to feel totally at ease.

Jesus I adore you, I really do. I get an erection just being in the same room as you, and that hasn’t happened in decades.

Imagine… someone you like, someone you admire. David Bowie perhaps. Now imagine that you somehow got his phone number, or met him socially and got the chance to drop in on him at home. That’s what it’s like. A few nights ago you asked me what I was doing last weekend, and I said “thinking about you”. Well I was. Not wanking, just thinking. And imagining.

So I was drunk when I wrote that – but I won’t disown it because it’s partly true.

I’m very smitten with Yasmina, I’m extremely fond of her. I think she’s great. And my number one priority is to not cock it up, to keep her as a friend as long and as much as possible, and to not lose her – because she is very very fantastic. When I’m tied up and serving her, I’m not serving some unknown fantasy goddess in black leather with a whip – I’m serving Yasmina. And I am me, not some persona that I slip into to play fantasy games.

So where will it go? I honestly don’t know but I’m having a lovely time right now. The wife doesn’t know, of course, and would probably kick me out if she found out. Which, on the one hand, I can understand, but on the other hand… my other hand… it’s so unfair that I can’t be truly wholly me anywhere else.

Really not at all sure what Yasmina gets out of this but she genuinely seems to enjoy my company – I assume she’d tell me if she didn’t want me to go round to see her (hopefully by being honest, but she could always say she’s unwell or has a booking if necessary) and in the meantime I’ll keep going round there for a beer on the way home. That’s pretty much all it is on those occasions – ‘session’ stuff mainly stays out of social visits, and I don’t pay her for them (other than in beer) so I honestly can’t think of any other reason she’d want to see me if she didn’t enjoy it. And she says she likes it – she says “it’s fun”. And it is.

So for now, anyway, Yasmina, thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. Because for now, at least, Maureen has a friend and it feels wonderful.

Playtime not over?

I’m in a bit of a dream here – I seem to have found someone who is willing to play with me for free. A pro escort that I went to see once, hoping she would be willing to try domming and subbing, but who seems to really enjoy both and is now ‘learning the ropes’ with me. And she is very good looking, great fun, and bloody great in both roles!

Watch this space. Probably can’t last, but…

The trouble with Maureen…

…is that when I let her out she bloody wants to stay out.

Definitely getting the urge…

…but can’t decide whether to go dom or sub. Mind you, I seem to have a new willing playmate who will switch with me – though it’s always a risk trying someone new. Oh, had I but world enough and time… and money… and that’s the biggest problem.

If I were loaded then I would be able to indulge myself as often as I wanted (work and family permitting) but since I’m not I have to ration myself. And I really can’t afford them apart from very occasionally, so I need to make sure that if – when – I do go to see somebody they’re going to satisfy me. As Charlotte did the last time, and as… the wonderful Miss Miranda *always* does. She really is beyond compare (even though Hanwell is a bit of a trek) and absolutely superb – and beautiful – and fun. I think I’ve seen her half a dozen times over the years.

Yeah, it seems as if I’m going to go subbing soon. Domming isn’t really satisfactory because I don’t really know what to do with them when I’ve got them all tied up – spanking/whipping/torture/rape just ain’t my thing. And, on the whole, the sessions where I am sub tend to be the more satisfactory and have a longer lasting satisfaction to me.

So… Miranda – are you free this week?

So – what am I actually looking for???

I don’t know.

When I was younger (long before I was married, when I wasn’t really in a relationship of any kind for very long) I used to dream/fantasise about being married to a woman with whom I could share my sexual desires and fantasies in a mutually rewarding and fulfilling way. That sounds clinical and detached but what I mean is that I hoped I would fall in love with a woman that didn’t mind – or that hopefully enjoyed and got turned on by – being tied up. And that she would fall in love with me, and that Maureen would finally have a safe place to express herself regularly. So when I bought my first flat and went shopping for a bed I made sure it had proper bedposts so that she – or I – could be tied to them.

I still have that bed, but nobody (apart from me, in a rather sad self-bondage exploit many years ago) has ever been tied to it.

But that fantasy has never gone away – although it’s now tempered and modified by the fact that I *am* married, and that my wife knows nothing of Maureen, and that (and I do know this for a fact despite whatever reassurances you might try to give) she would be appalled and disgusted if she ever found out. She is, and has been, very vocal about how sick and perverted and generally ‘bad’ it is to be into any kind of ‘kinky’ sex – and I’m afraid that B&D and TV are right at the far end of that spectrum. So no, I’m not going to tell her.

But Maureen is still there (though currently locked in her room). And demands expression. And that means finding somebody to play with – and that means spending money. Lots of it – and I don’t have that kind of money. Occasionally I manage to squirrel some money away and eventually I get enough together for a play session but that I have second thoughts about blowing it all in one single hour and I nearly always regret it afterwards. Hence my desire for a ‘playmate’ that isn’t a pro sub (or domme).

And yet, if she wasn’t a pro sub/domme, what would she be? I have realised that I wouldn’t want a freebie (that’s why I don’t go on alt.com looking for a ‘partner’), I need to keep it on a fairly ‘professional’ basis so that I can reassure myself that I’m not ‘having an affair’ or being unfaithful. Certainly there are women out there who enjoy being tied up (and tying up) but it’s too late for me to be looking for a potential partner – despite everything I have no intention or desire to leave my wife – and so maybe this is the way it has to be.

Sometimes I wish Maureen had never been born.