Day 6

Day 6: Reality becomes Truly 3-Dimensional

So that’s how I ended on a train to London as nervous, fearful and excited in equal measure. He called me and I believe me I tied but I couldn’t think of any reason to say no. I am sure how many reading this will understand that but it was, and still very much is true. Indeed it is more true as I write this than it was back then. I don’t regret it even though I must have got close to calling it off at least 3 times before boarding, on the train itself and on the platform of Paddington station when the real panic set in. Only the knowledge that not carrying this through would make me feel worse than actually doing so could possibly do kept me going. Fearing the unknown is powerful but allowing that to control your actions at the moment of truth is even more difficult to live with and part of my brain made sure I knew it.

‘placing my hand beneath your chin, I raise your eyes to meet mine’. Thought of these words often on that train.

It was while contemplating my fate on the train 2 hours from London that my phone first rang as my intuition new that it would. If I had been organising this it rang at the moment or near to it that I would have selected, yes this man knew my mind as well as I knew it, that’s foolish after all that’s happened its clear that he knew it so much better which is why it rang as I was sat there contemplating whether I should leave the train at the next station. His voice as always was calm, refined and reassuring. This was more like a first date (at least for me) rather than something promising to be so much more intense, though I wasn’t clear yet exactly what, or how that intensity would pan out. And that’s the crux of how I found myself able to embark upon this journey. It was so normal so matter of fact for this man, the comforting tone infectuous to women like me, so that when he spoke to you it seemed so perfectly natural to want to be part of him and this part of his life, no more like that he should be part of my life. My voice was as fidgety as his his was calm but he liked that it showed that this was such a transformation for me whereas for him I was one amongst many he had shown a path I wanted but feared to tread. It made him magnetic but totally rational. His first words were so caring he wanted above all to know that I was ok and his caring was clearly genuine. His second were to the point, I was to remove my bra, I suddenly realised it had started, just as I was trying to prepare myself for what lie ahead it had actually arrived, you have to admire his insight always a step ahead you know what he is doing but it only makes it all the more alluring, the power is shared not simply viewed. Now I know why he had selected from my collection the thin dress I was wearing, you had to smile that almost every detail had a reason in his world and even knowing it didn’t help because you simply over analysed everything and couldnt determine which were significant. He could however, no you just realised unlike him you couldn’t implicitly read his mind only that it was sane and rational.

My mind was still in slight shock and confusion over whether I was ready to start this when he simply said ‘I think you should do it now dont you’. I could think of nothing to say but a somewhat croaky ‘yes’. I sat there for a moment that seemed and age before i got up and headed for the toilet forgetting my bag and having to turn and grab it I became paranoid that everyone knew what I was doing, the phone call may as well have been broadcast over the tannoy system for the privacy I was feeling on that long walk. But as he knew and I knew he knew this had totally focused my mind ironically putting more pressure on me to perform a small task had actually removed the pressure of questioning doing this at all.

I entered the cubicle locked the door leaned up against it and took a deep breath. I had often gone without a bra so why was this simple command so all encompassing to my mind and making my breathing so ragged at the thought, by now you may well know this better than me. I stood there looking at myself in the mirror realising that this might be the last time that I viewed myself as a truly free woman, though I had to smile when I contemplated that I hadn’t been that for weeks though at what point it had changed was a mystery to me. I had to pull the dress up to my neck to remove my bra not an easy task in such a tight space and the glimpses I caught in that mirror would I know have pleased my … I didnt really know what to call him back then even though the word he had me calling him when we spoke was clear in my mind, I just wasn’t ready to do so to myself. I stood there in front of the mirror my hard nipples staring back at me through that thin fabric, the light over the mirror was more like a neon sign in my mind saying ‘slut’ in giant letters. He had chosen well this dress was not only thin it was a clingy soft material that I had never worn braless before, now I knew why. I tidied my hair did my lipstick anything to delay that long walk back. There was a tap at the door which brought me back to reality and I turned to leave then realising that HE had asked me to take a pic on completing the task. I quickly grabbed my phone and took the pic as commanded and left the cubical quickly avoiding any glance at the woman waiting outside. Hesitating at the door back into the carriage and taking a deep breath I took the walk of shame back to my seat looking only at my feet or the floor ahead. If I thought the earlier walk was difficult this felt more like being dragged onto a stage at an ancient Roman slave auction in my mind. I dread to think how red my face was all I could concentrate on was putting one step after the other but this simply focussed my mind on the fact that each step created a movement that emphasised the brush of my dress against my straining nipples. I couldn’t deny the totally erotic nature of an act that I add taken in my stride previously. Yes this man could make the most simple act feel like a photo shoot with Helmut Newton and I was still an hour an half from his clutches.

Trying my best to ‘cover up’ I started to read the book he had instructed me to read, I have previously alluded to, The Story of O. As I had said I had known of it when I was at Uni, had even read the odd passage but in my old life had never considered actually reading it from cover to cover, regarding it as oppresive, sexist and anti female… well no longer. Here I was reading it avidly, finding it as arousing and erotic as anything I had ever encountered, though neatly tucked into a more main stream cover to prevent my somewhat provocative reading matter being obvious to my fellow travellers, yes I still had superficial inhibitions a plenty, in fact many that were anything but superficial just a propensity and a destination in mind to test them. This actually led to a slight embarrassment when the wife of the couple opposite commented on how wonderful a book it was, truly addicted and her husband really enjoyed it too. That moment before I realised that she was referring to was ‘Life of Pi’ and not a highly erotic insight into one woman’s  road to total submission or train journey perhaps. As I hadn’t read the book they were referring to beyond the first chapter, wasnt impressed and as a result exploited its cover for my present reading material, it wasn’t the easiest of conversations.

And then the phone rang again leading to a second chill in a few minutes going down my spine, but firing up my nipples once more along the way, their softening being the one bonus of my brief chat with the couple. It was HIM and something that I had been surprised at before leaving home, that I was allowed to wear panties considering previous discussions was I realised very deliberate. So I found myself on the same trip to the toilet I had traced before to remove the offending article. Upon entering I was faced with another shock, my bra sat hanging from the tap, in my rush I had totally forgotten about it and I couldnt but wonder what the lady who entered after me earlier, would have made of what she saw. I quickly tucked it into my bag hiked up my dress and removed my panties  and quickly took a pic of me holding them, thankfully he had trusted me enough to not have wanted further proof, I shivered at the thought. I made sure this time that they too were tucked into my now bulging bag, I smiled that I clearly hadn’t anticipated this and brought a bigger bag, when I considered what had taken place in the previous weeks. I quickly returned to my seat praying I didn’t meet that woman again but then i hadn’t noticed anything about her so for all I know it could have been the woman across from me who smiled upon my return which dint help. I remembered or thought I did that she had been there when I had returned previously which helped a little. but then yo start t doubt it. This was interupted again with a text message which simply said send the pics. I fumbled and managed to do so panicking a few minutes later checking that I had sent them to the right address, which I was relieved I had.

30 minutes from London I tried to read my book but was now too nervous and sat there for the rest of  the journey contemplating my fate. First the outskirts of London, then the office blocks and slowly we pulled into platform 12 of Paddington Station. I will never ever forget that platform it is burned into my mind, every single facet of it as I stepped from that train. And yes whatever the fear my nipples were again as hard as hell, which at that moment I thought I was unerringly headed for. And then as I contemplated that a new message arrived…

I will never forget this moment, my heart skipped a beat as that moment of no return approached

HIS WORDS AGAIN: So the moral of the story is, if you want to lead a nice quiet domestic life and you never want to have your eyes opened to how it feels to lose all control, then make sure you follow these rules: 1. Do not go to meet a smartly-dressed, well-spoken man in a sleek corporate hotel bar in Hammersmith. 2. If you do, then on no account start to get drawn into doing what he tells you – even the minor little things like in the bar when he tells you to take off your jacket, or move your feet just an inch further apart, and smiles as you blush and get flustered. 3. If, an hour later, your head spinning with new feelings, he tells you to follow him, do not even think about doing so. This way, danger lies. Nice boring girls would never dream of doing such a thing. 4. In the room, when he gives you a drink, makes you sit with legs even wider open while he stands in front of you and makes reassuring small talk – but breaks off to ask teasingly how slutty you feel right now, just don’t do it. Close your legs, put down the glass, run away. You know your mom would want you to. But it’s … tempting, to stay, to see how this goes, isn’t it? 5. When he instructs you to go to the mirror and begin removing your clothes – one at a time, folding them neatly – try not to look yourself in the eyes and see the excited surrender in them. This is fatal, it’s exactly what he wants and why he put you there. Try not to concentrate on how controlling it feels that he’s on the other side of the room, sipping his drink, amused, watching you rather than rushing sweatily to get his hands on you. Does it make you feel even more naked? Oh dear. That’s a shame 😉 6. Having undressed, on no account should you (a) let him blindfold you; (b) let him put a collar and leash on you; (c) let him make you get on all fours; or (d) wait helplessly as he locks away your clothing. This would be very unwise. And if you find you’ve broken all the rules above? Well, I guess your evening is about to get rather interesting. And it’s all your own fault. What on earth would Mom, Dad, your college friends think? Would they understand why you are so wet already, and why the adrenaline is surging round your body?

Well as you may have guessed I didn’t listen to those words and I won’t deny I am so very happy that I didn’t. What my parents would make of that I can only imagine but then its my life not theirs isn’t it.

I have written a continuation and conclusion to this, as far as this story has one, but due to the nature of the content I have decided not to publish it openly here due to not wanting to offend anyone’s sensibilities. If you do want to read it however then please contact me at the following email and I can give you the link as long as you think you are ready, for what follows is quite intense even looking back upon it.

aspirationalwhitegirl@gmail.com

Meanwhile there is a postscript to this story here: Postscript